


Home

by YouWouldntUnderstand



Category: RWBY
Genre: Bumblebee - Freeform, Completely Vanilla Sex, Cunnilingus, Eggs, F/F, First Time, Inflatable Mattress, Shameless Smut, Talking About Chores in Bed, Vaginal Fingering, dish soap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-16 17:59:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 33,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9283547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouWouldntUnderstand/pseuds/YouWouldntUnderstand
Summary: A five-chapter story that covers the night and morning after Blake and Yang become full-fledged huntresses. Also, it's Blake's first time. Also, Yang can't help herself. Also, there's an air mattress involved. Bumblebee smut from Blake's perspective.





	1. Never Go Back

**Author's Note:**

> ACHTUNG: This entire story has been posted on Fanfiction already. If you want to read everything now, you can find the other chapters there—it's under the same pseudonym as the one I use here: YouWouldntUnderstand. As for AO3, I'm going to post one chapter every two days. The reason I'm screwing you all over like this is because I screwed up first, thinking I tagged Bumblebee over on FFNet when I actually didn't. So, I'm going to milk you for all the kudos, comments, and whatnot I can. Anyway, I hope you enjoy or whatever.

Downtown Vale wasn't an option for a newly graduated huntress. Not even for two. The sleepless city life and the better food and the proximity to all the places where Yang would want to spend her partying hours needed to be worked up to. That meant actual jobs and no school-given allowances. That meant moderation and self-sufficiency. That meant, at least for the couple of Blake and her partner Yang, the lower-east side of Vale.

It was not an upscale place, nor was it especially run down, but, in time, it could make a nice enough home. At least, that could be true as soon as that home found a couple income streams.

As it was, the apartment sat three stories above an early hour street, windows darkened and blinds still open. It was quiet inside, for its owners were away, and so a sleepy stillness overtook the neighborhood. That is until the silence was broken by laughter, far off down the nearest sidewalk, which was cracked and lined with weeds. In the darkness, excepted by intervallic and alternating amber streetlamps, were two figures—one with a voice as amused as it was proud of its sense of humor and the other with a laugh so joyful that its past owner would hardly recognize it. Blake and Yang walked together, beneath the shuddering spring trees and beside one another to ward off the remaining cold.

There wasn't any frost left by their breaths—there hadn't been for some weeks now—but still Blake found herself drawn to Yang's side like she had been for a long while now, ever since she had befriended that beautiful, wonderful space heater. Likewise, Yang seemed to live for her partner's laugh, goading another chuckle out just after the last one with a new pun or wordplay.

"Yang, that's terrible." Blake grinned nonetheless, jabbing her girlfriend in the ribs at the awful joke the prankster had just made.

Yang only cackled more, flashing Blake a killer set of pearly whites. She waggled her eyebrows. "But Blake! You know you love it."

The Faunus slowly shook her head, still smiling. It was undeniable—somehow, Yang's puns had gotten funnier over time. Or maybe it was just Blake's appreciation of them that had changed along with her growing esteem for the blonde. Or maybe she had just been worn down to the point where anything remotely funny could be considered extremely funny. Still, she couldn't just let Yang _know_ that. "Close. I like that you think you're hilarious."

Yang wrapped her arm around Blake's waist, pulling her closer and allowing the raven-haired girl to clearly see the pout sent her way. "How could you? My heart! Why?"

Blake's grin widened again. "You know you love it," came her quietly amused comeback.

At that, Yang burst into giggles.

Tonight, they were officially huntresses. That meant bad jokes were allowed to be bad and laughing Blakes were allowed to keep laughing. They deserved this night, Blake and Yang—and so too all the other members of Teams RWBY and JNPR—because, after four years of Beacon Academy, they had finally graduated.

Unfortunately, the bar Weiss had booked was quite a ways away from Blake and Yang's apartment. The heiress had only thought of herself and Ruby, whom she had taken care of in terms of real estate, while Yang leased an apartment with Blake. Moreover, the members of Team JNPR all had places that were just too far for a walk, so they had excuses to use taxis. Blake and Yang, however, lived only fifteen blocks away.

It wasn't too bad, all things considered. They had walked together the entire way, even though they had pretty much talked exclusively to each other for most of the get-together, too, and enjoyed every second of each other's company. Even amid the perpetual tension machine that was Jaune and Pyrrha's "nonexistent" relationship and the subtextual dagger-throwing competition between Weiss and Nora, Blake and Yang only had eyes for each other. And when the night ended and everyone said their goodbyes, the couple had had no qualms about walking back home on this brisk spring night, hand in hand.

Now they were getting close. Their eyes naturally gravitated toward their new apartment, taking it in yet again, as it was still a bit of a wonder for them to contemplate. It was not so much the exterior appearance of it—nor the interior, really—that caused such a reaction. It was more so just the newness of it all. This was the place they were going to live in from now on. Together.

Yang sighed happily, moving to walk backwards in front of her partner. "So," she grinned. "What'd you think?"

"Think of what?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe that five-hour party thing we just came from."

"Right. That." Blake tucked her hands into the pockets of her cotton jacket, not having Yang's warmth beside her anymore. Yet still she smiled at the blonde. "I had fun. I think we all needed that, considering all we went through. And it was nice seeing JNPR again."

"Yeah. Shame Ozpin had us out doing solo missions. I forgot how disgusting Jaune and Pyrrah can be together."

"You know they're probably saying the same thing about us, right?"

Yang shrugged. "Let 'em talk." She turned around, apparently aware that they were arriving in front of the walkway that led to the entrance of their place. Blake made it back to Yang's side, amused that the brawler was taking the comment so lightly. But then Yang wondered, glancing up at the night sky and then at Blake, "Do you think we're actually that cheesy?"

The Faunus hummed, pretending to think about it. The subject was of no consequence, all things considered—they were just comfortably talking about whatever popped into their minds. "I think…it doesn't matter." Her tone was gentle, removing any bite her words could have possibly held. The two girls stopped and faced each other once they had climbed the cement steps to the front door. Blake smiled reassuringly at Yang. "We're us, and I'm satisfied with that."

Midway through fishing the key out of her pocket, Yang gave her a look. It was a mix of amusement and bemusement, and, before Blake could read into this expression, Yang leaned over and quickly pecked her cheek, pulling away with a now-mirthful smirk. "Same, TBH."

She unlocked the door and allowed Blake to pass through first. This only got her an eye-roll that seemed to say "You're incorrigible" and "I'm happy," both of which Blake had intended.

The lobby was relatively clean compared to the other buildings Blake and Yang had toured—despite being strapped for cash, Blake could not bring herself to live with mold or uncaring tenants. An elevator stood to either side of the square room while mailboxes—which neither girl had yet gotten a key for—rested in the back wall. Blake and Yang moved to the elevator.

"I mean," Yang said, letting her back press the button for her, "I don't think we're, like, movie-level cheesy. I'll take most of the blame for the cliché things I say about you, but even that doesn't make us as cheesy as some movies are. _Maybe_ as much as a TV show. But nothing syndicated. We're better than that."

Blake shook her head. "Sometimes—"

"Don't you dare say we are!"

" _Sometimes_ ," Blake continued, keeping a laugh at bay, "I do think we can be a little much. Not for my tastes, mind you, but maybe for others'."

"Yeah, I can see that. But whatever. That's their problem."

A _ding_ caught their attention. The elevator nearest them opened, and, with the same smirk she had been holding, Yang led Blake inside. They leaned against the railing as the elevator closed behind them, and Blake found herself resting her head against Yang's shoulder as they waited. It really had been quite a night, and it was late now—well, early. Blake figured they would end up sleeping in, especially if she took into consideration the fatigue she could already feel in her body. They probably deserved that small moment of respite, anyway.

"Agreed. I'm just glad we're home now," she murmured, almost drowsy.

Yang muffled a chuckle in Blake's hair. "Home sweet home," she replied, "with the fantastic view, the rich decorations, and the simply _divine_ company."

The elevator opened again, and Blake moved away from Yang, giving her a wry look. "Well, you aren't wrong about _one_ of those things."

Yang immediately struck a pose, one hand on her hip, the other on the elevator wall, "Yeah! _This_ fantastic view! Am I right?" She winked emphatically.

Blake rolled her eyes but couldn't help the simper on her lips. "Absolutely." She stepped into the hallway. "Now get out of there before you end up striking a pose for someone in the lobby."

"You say that like I wouldn't actually do it." Nevertheless, the blonde left the elevator, all the while snickering quietly. " _Before you strike a pose for someone in the lobby_. Yeah, if they're awake at three. Sure."

To be honest, Blake _somewhat_ needed that goofball to accompany her to their apartment since she had their only key. That, and she figured Yang was just as tired as she was, so impromptu modelling sessions would not be good for either of them.

The hall was quieter than usual, even with Blake's long-uncovered ears trying to search for something. This was calming in a way. Usually, there was _some_ semblance of community in these halls, what with the televisions and music and conversations sounding throughout the day. But now the taupe hall was simply still. And the lack of sound began to influence the Faunus' energy. Fortunately, they did not walk for long.

They reached the end of the hall, and Yang moved ahead of her partner, keychain in hand. "Just so you know," she began, turning the key in the lock, "I'm gonna time you and see how long it takes for you to pass out. I've got money on five minutes."

"Who else is in on the bet?"

"Well, that's the problem." With a comforting _click_ , the door was unlocked and pushed open.

They had only moved in less than a week ago, and one could still tell from the lack of furniture and the abundance of unpacked boxes. The house was dark, and Yang, seemingly, preferred it to stay that way, as she strode into the small living room and left Blake to deal with the light switch. However, Blake could see just fine in the dark, and, she had to admit, the barren room ahead seemed somehow prettier with moonlight streaming upon it. Yang doubly so.

 _Unbelievable_ , Blake thought with vague amusement. Of course, Yang would just keep any money she lost and gain nothing if Blake collapsed within the next few minutes—because Yang was just, as per usual, making things up.

The raven-haired girl made her way to their bedroom so she could change while Yang went to the bathroom. By the time the former finished tying her yukata, she heard the latter smash into something.

"Owww… Blake, the lights…"

Blake ventured out, stifling a laugh. "Yang, we don't have any furniture. What could you have possibly hit?"

In a strained groan, "A stack of boxes…"

The sight that greeted Blake out in the corridor was one she has seen several times before—but not here. At Beacon. Her teammate was fumbling around blindly, trying to find a light switch as she rubbed her shoulder. It was just as funny as it had been all those other times. Not wanting to add insult to injury, though, Blake refrained from showing too much mirth. Instead, she went over to Yang and took one of the blonde's hands in her own.

"You all right?"

"Yeah," Yang assured. "And thanks."

"For what? I haven't done anything." Nevertheless, Blake could not help but smile through her tiredness. Yang was showing her own, and her thanks was only the tip of a sleepy iceberg.

Yang felt around with her foot for the box, tapping it carefully and moving around it. "For, you know…" She and Blake moved away from the offending stack. "Thanks for being here."

It was not unusual for Yang to grow affectionate before bed. A sleepy Yang was both a talkative and honest Yang, and, on occasions—such as, seemingly, now—both descriptors applied in spades. The hand in Blake's own gripped appreciatively, but when Blake tried to step back and guide her partner into the bedroom, Yang stepped forward and stopped her. Perhaps it was due to her tired-yet-affectionate state or perhaps it was due to the near honeymoon levels of joy they had experienced since moving in, but Yang's step forward brought her lips to meet Blake's.

It was an easy kiss that neither felt obliged to push further. It was the longer, realer version of the behind-Weiss'-back pecks that had happened all night long. They were home now—in _their_ home—the home they meant to make _together_ —and such was why they each breathed easier as soon as that kiss happened. But it was over before they knew it. Yang pulled away with a small, grateful smile.

"You couldn't see the boxes," Blake said, "but, somehow, you could see my lips."

"Correction: I couldn't see your lips. I just so happen to have memorized where they are."

" _That's_ not creepy."

Despite the joke, Blake tightened her grip on Yang's hand and finally pulled her into their bedroom. There was no attempt at another kiss, though Blake was sure there would be another, as was part of their goodnight ritual, but Yang seemed sated for now.

Sleeping together was still weird. Beacon had never allowed them to share a bed, even when they were on missions. And although that rule had been broken a handful of times, during weekends and on especially cold nights in the field, sharing a bed still felt novel to Blake. Maybe that had to do with the air mattress at the back of the room. It was the only piece of furniture they owned, and it was hardly comfortable by Blake's standards. But Yang liked it. And, really, if the furniture was inexpensive and Yang showed a liking for it, then Blake could find it in her high-standards heart to like it, too. It was only one-hundred Lien, so that certainly helped.

"I'll turn on the light," Blake offered, but Yang stopped her.

"No. I can see in here. There are actually windows. Plus…Well, I kinda like it like this. It feels comfortable."

Having the ability to see in the dark had its benefits, no doubt, but Blake had to admit that she occasionally took humans' sight for granted. A Faunus actually had to focus to see by moonlight alone, and, when Blake presently did, the sight she found was surprisingly serene. The cocktail dress and the olive-drab jacket Yang wore over it were tinted white-blue by the setting moon. Her eyes were unfocused but alert and her shoulders were beginning to slump. Blake watched as the blonde struggled in the direction of their closet, the raven-haired girl being unable to bring herself to lie down for the present moment. She did sit cross-legged on the mattress, though, patiently waiting. Making sure Yang could manage on her own seemed more pressing than getting comfortable under the blankets.

Yang felt around for the closet handle, and when she finally found it, opened the door. She stepped in, but then Blake saw her pause. A short silence followed.

"Uh, Blake?"

Having known this would happen, Blake slowly shook her head. "Yes, Yang?"

"I…can't see colors."

"That's a problem you should have told the optometrist before enrolling at Beacon," Blake teased, nonetheless standing back up and making her way over to Yang.

"So funny," Yang gibed. "Please help."

Sometimes Yang's stubbornness escaped Blake. "You know, I _can_ just turn on the light for you."

"Aw, but where's the fun in that?" the prankster retorted with a snicker. "Also, we're in the closet."

"Oh my God, Yang. We've never been in the closet. Now, which pajamas do you want?"

Yang was still giggling at her awful joke. She might have been drunk. Maybe just a little bit. "The usual? Orange shirt, black shorts?"

Not annoyed in the least—feeling quite the opposite, in fact—Blake looked through the clothing that had been thrown a bit haphazardly within and eventually found what Yang was searching for. She gave the articles to Yang, and they both exited the closet. The Faunus was about to return to the mattress so her girlfriend could change, but Yang apparently needed help with something else.

"Wait, one sec." The blonde removed her army-style jacket and let it just drop to the floor (and Blake promised herself she'd get the incorrigible girl to pick it up tomorrow). "Could you unzip me real quick?" she asked, sort of turning her back to Blake and lifting her mane of hair out of the way.

Blake was about to oblige, but she suddenly paused. In the dim light of the moon, the parts where Yang's skin was bared reflected a soft umbral glow, creating defining contrasts and fascinating gradients. Golden irises followed the slant of Yang's nape, taking interest in the barely noticeable shadows formed by the muscles in her shoulder blades.

Sometimes, like now, Yang's beauty struck Blake hard enough to take her breath away. The reserved girl sauntered over and tentatively gripped the zipper, pulling it slowly down Yang's back, gliding along the curves of her spine and baring more of her skin. A certain kind of warmth pooled in Blake's belly, a familiar desire she hadn't allowed herself to entertain even once since entering this committed relationship with Yang.

Blake had never done this before. She hadn't waited for this, hadn't expected it to happen, and part of her even felt like she wasn't _allowed_ to follow through. Even her proximity felt forbidden. Her inexperience made her nervous, and she suddenly felt like her arms were appendages separate from the rest of her. But, nevertheless, heart pounding, fingertips tingling, she found her free hand snaking gently around Yang's waist, closing the space between them, and laying her lips on Yang's neck from behind—a tender, lingering kiss.

"O-Oh." The blonde shuddered. "You know, I thought I'd actually get _in_ to clothes after I got out of these…"

The zipper kept going and Blake laid another kiss on her partner's neck, pausing at the initial contact. The joke had been funny, despite her lack of laughter, but this—all of _this_ —only served to bring her progress to a complete and awkward stop. She cast her eyes down in shame and nearly backed away.

But Yang stopped her. "Blake."

Two amber irises met one lilac, which peeked over a moonlit shoulder.

Her voice was calm as she spoke, her tone easy and without doubt. "It's okay," Yang said. "If you want to do this, let's do this. It's been, what, a year now? Year and a half? I'm okay with this. I'm okay if you are."

Unfortunately, the assurance did only a little to soothe Blake's worries. "I…I-I'm not sure if I'm okay. It's weird, Yang. I…think I want this, but…"

"It's weird when it's real, huh?"

Blake nodded.

Without her partner's hands on her hips, Yang could turn to face her girlfriend fully. Her expression was apologetic yet somehow encouraging. "I know what you mean," she offered. "This isn't exactly a walk in the park for me, either. Like, I've been with guys before, but…yeah, this is kinda really new to me. But I'm with you. And I know that it can't be as weird as we think it's gonna be."

Unfortunately, Blake couldn't find a single word to reply with.

But that was all right. Yang reacted to this silence by moving forward and catching the Faunus with a hug. There was nothing sexual about it; it was friendly, and that, Blake thought, was what Yang was trying to convey.

"It's all right. There's no rush. I'm with you for the long run, kitten."

Guilt tore at the raven-haired girl's conscience. She needed to say _something_ to let Yang know she was not just being…difficult. Blake tried to apologize by hugging back, finding her head quickly cradled by Yang's hand as an "I'm sorry" escaped her lips.

"It's okay. Let's just get to bed. I think we're both a little too tired, anyway."

Blake nodded into the golden girl's shoulder, and the two pulled away. She took another look at Yang, simply watching the light dance across her skin and retiring dress. Some part of her regretted not pushing that moment further, yet another part of her knew they could take that step some other time. Yang's smile assured this.

Concerns mostly assuaged, Blake made her way back to the mattress and allowed herself to get comfortable—as comfortable as she could be on that inflatable _thing—_ under the blankets. That proved to be a bit of a difficult task, though. As she propped herself up on her elbows, trying again to find a more suitable position, Blake's gaze was drawn to something landing over by the jacket on the floor. She recognized Yang's dress.

Blake tried to ignore that. Really, she did. But then her eyes, traitors that they were, caught sight of Yang, and, well, _captivated_ became an accurate description of her state. The warmth she had felt earlier returned.

Yang was one of those people that exerted both strength and femininity. Her back was turned to Blake, but that didn't matter. The Faunus' golden eyes were fixated on Yang's muscles stretching out and compressing as she unclasped her bra and let it fall with the rest of her clothes. Her stance then relaxed, and Blake's gaze wandered downward, cheeks heating up at the firm shape of Yang's…thighs. Blake had long ago noticed that Yang was desirable, but she had mostly kept those kinds of thoughts at bay—specifically to avoid this kind of overwhelming lust. But now it was abundantly clear just how alluring Yang's figure was and even clearer how much Blake was affected by it.

"I feel like I'm being watched," the blonde commented, turning only slightly to grab her pajamas. Before Blake could even react to that, though, Yang suddenly glanced in her direction from the corner of her eyes. " _Yup_. What a perv. Enjoying the view?"

Blake was instantly flustered, lowering her gaze and altogether collapsing onto the mattress so she could stare up at the plain, white ceiling. " _Now_ you can see in the dark?" she mumbled, letting out a bit of a sigh and covering her eyes with her hand, as if it would somehow erase the image from her mind.

Yang laughed. "No, but I know for a fact the walls don't have these little eye things that reflect light."

"Kill me."

"Well, I mean, if you _really_ want me to…"

Now Blake was definitely blushing. "Yang, get dressed."

"Something tells me that's _not_ what you want."

" _Yang_."

The prankster surrendered with another snicker, and Blake heard her put the pajamas on. If Blake was to be honest with herself, she wasn't sure how she was going to deal with Yang joining her in bed now. She knew this was entirely her own fault for not controlling where she had been looking, but that didn't help the tiny embers burning in her body, hungering for more fuel. And Yang had this terrible habit of teasing Blake every time the occasion presented itself—and _this_ , no doubt, counted as one.

To say the least, Blake's heartbeat didn't calm. And when Yang approached, feet padding ominously closer on the hardwood floor, Blake's heart not only refused to calm, it began to race—both from apprehension and anticipation. Her eyes were drawn to the left at the feeling of her blanket being momentarily removed. Yang, with shirt on, was lowering herself into the bed and had no qualms with direct and piercing eye contact.

"You know," she said, making the mattress wheeze as she readjusted, "that look in your eye only wants me to flaunt it more."

Blake groaned. "Well, it's working. And I hate it."

"Hate it in a love-it sort of way?"

"Don't remind me."

The blanket was pulled over the both of them, and, not a moment later, Yang's auric warmth spread throughout the bed. It was calming in a way, if only on an instinctual level, but this wonton lusting was still grating on the nerves. Nevertheless, Blake turned on her side to meet Yang, who did much the same.

"You know, we probably would have been asleep right now if you hadn't decided to 'flaunt it.'"

Yang gave her a confused look, as though Blake were crazy. "Are we forgetting the part where you started macking on my neck? I mean, props to you for that; it really got my engines revving, if you know what I mean." She waggled her eyebrows and clicked her tongue. "But, seriously, let's not forget who's to _Blake_ for this."

"Wh—" Had Blake heard correctly? Engines…revving? _No_. Yang needed to be treated right, with more respect than Blake's late-night mind could muster. But…revving?

A chuckle interrupted Blake's thoughts, and, before she knew it, the mattress' PVC creaked as her body was pulled toward Yang's. A chin rested between her cat ears, a hand traced lines up and down her spine, and that hand's index finger rubbed lazy circles all the while. "I'm just teasing you, kitten," came Yang's soft reply.

There was something about that noise, maybe the proximity of it. It sounded smooth but felt husked, and, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, Blake somehow felt reassured and thus drew closer to the warmer form. She was not out of her awkward wood yet, but she could see light on the horizon. For this, she breathed easier and allowed herself to be hugged, lightly returning the favor.

"Like," Yang continued, musing as though her words were and were not for Blake, "I don't _actually_ think you're a perv. If I did, I'd be a hypocrite, 'cause then I'd be one, too. I really didn't mind when you kissed me back there, Blake. And I didn't mind you watching. Really, I uh…" Blake paused as the rumble of Yang's words ceased, her attention and…more shameful _attention_ piqued. "I think about you like that, too. And I _was_ —I'm not gonna lie."

And there was the blush again. They were both supposed to be tired. They were supposed to have gone to sleep by now. But Yang was talkative and affectionate…and not to mention buzzed. Despite Blake's attempts at trying to push away all lurid and obscene thoughts of her partner, Yang, with her worst unintentional tease ever, was affirming all of them. This was both a dream come true and an anxious nightmare.

Worse yet, a kiss was placed between the Faunus' ears. "But it's okay. We'll wait. We'll move at your speed since mine's a bit… Well, we'll move at your speed."

Blake wondered if Yang was doing this on purpose, letting her savor the presented dessert before cruelly taking it away, maybe in the hopes that Blake would ask for a bite or two…or more. It was late—it had to be three in the morning by now. However, no amount of tiredness would snuff out the growing flame that burned somehow hotter at Yang's confession. Was it worth it? Was it worth it to take that step _now_? To indulge that little flame? Guilt and anxiety aside, Blake…wanted this. And so did Yang, purportedly. And it was three in the morning, and they had had a long day, and Blake was inexperienced—and Yang, by earlier admission, was inexperienced, too, at least with regard to girls—and sugar before bed was rarely conducive to a good night's sleep, and, and…

And Yang had said she liked bold. She said the kiss and stare had worked for her. And Blake, despite all her reservations, _wanted_ this—wanted her bite of Yang.

They would do it, Blake decided. Whatever _it_ turned out to be.

She snuggled closer, pulling Yang toward her just as she had been pulled toward Yang, and kissed the hollow of her girlfriend's neck. Yang started, visibly surprised. " _Oh_ ," she gasped. "O-okay. So we _are_ doing this?"

Blake hummed and, instead of speaking, let her actions reveal her answer. She kissed Yang's neck again, higher, and coaxed the golden girl onto her back with a gentle push by a hand on her waist. The Faunus wasn't sure this confidence would last—beyond her initiating push, she didn't really know what she was doing. Her heart seemed to want to thud out of her chest, and _that_ certainly wouldn't be a problem soon. But if Yang couldn't hear it pounding as it was…

Yang obliged her girlfriend, though, allowing Blake to lean halfway over her. The raven-haired girl kept her weight off Yang, and as her lips hovered closer to the brawler's jaw, Blake was taken with a bit of a funny urge—an urge she hoped Yang wouldn't mind. Breathing in her partner's fading lilac scent, Blake laid another kiss on Yang's skin, right below her earlobe, and then nibbled lightly on the upper part of that same ear.

The blonde seemed to shiver a little, arms automatically pulling Blake closer, and Blake was glad about the positive response. Her lips grazed Yang's cheekbone, and then she held herself up high enough to meet her girlfriend's lilac-eyed regard. Yang looked particularly focused on Blake now, and she tilted her head slightly, gliding one hand across the bookworm's cheek. "Are you okay?"

Her voice was soft, and Blake found herself smiling despite her nervousness. "Yes. Mostly. I just…" She paused, admiring Yang's very existence for a brief moment. "I love you, Yang."

This made Yang beam. "I love you, too, Blake."

It wasn't like this had been the first time they had said that to each other. But Yang's affirmation was so confident, so sweetly honest that hearing those words overwhelmed Blake with joy, blanketing her tightly-strung nerves in a soothing enough manner that her remaining reservations dissipated.

It, therefore, felt only natural to lean in, closing the gap between them and capturing Yang's lips with all the affection she could physically muster. Blake wanted—needed, in fact—to show Yang just how much this love meant to her.

Yang reciprocated readily, deepening the kiss into something more fervent without nearly the same hesitation Blake had displayed. All the barriers and inhibitions put up by Blake's asceticism came crumbling down in an instant, and they did so harshly. Where Yang deepened the kiss, Blake reciprocated. Where Yang's hands clutched at her partner's back, Blake clutched at her partner's sides. And, likewise, where Blake allowed herself to lay fully on top of her girlfriend, focusing on putting everything she could into the kiss, Yang allowed it and leaned upward to do much the same.

Soon they were sitting upright, their kiss still heated, Yang holding Blake's back while Blake held Yang's head. The Faunus gasped for air, drawing in a breath as quickly as she could so she could return to the golden girl's lips. But Yang smirked at this. "Yeah. Total perv," she whispered, her voice that same husk from before. " _But I love it_."

Disparaging though the comment might have been at some other, non-sexual point in time, this acceptance kept Blake's heart hammering at that same mad pace. The words were helpful, forgiving. They made the Faunus feel safe, with help, no doubt, from the arms around her back and the furnace-like warmth burning at her front. Thankful to and drawn by that warmth, Blake let her hands wander—through the thick and curly mane of hair, finding the occasional knot or tangle and combing it out gently.

This was bliss. Although it might have been late and the waning sleepiness might still have lingered in the back of her mind, joy welled in the Faunus' heart. She had Yang in her arms, and Yang had her in her own. They had a home together, a bed together, and the significance of their taking this step was not lost on Blake, distracted though she was. She was happy—genuinely and existentially happy—and made sure to convey that emotion with a softer yet somehow deeper kiss.

But then her eyes widened. One of the hands on her back had crawled stealthily upward, and now it rested on her shoulder. Blake's muscles tensed at the realization that fingertips had found and grazed the collar of her yukata.

Of course, this sort of thing was to be expected—this sort of…intimacy. Never minding the fact that she and Yang had seen each other nude before, Blake knew this situation was different. She was sharing this moment with Yang, sharing _herself_ with Yang. She had already bared her heart and soul to Yang—now it was time to take that dreaded yet long-awaited next step.

She pulled away and searched for those lilac eyes. Yang's breathing was rougher and her gaze was inquisitive, ardent. That Yang wanted this so unabashedly much was both flattering and frightening. Heat rose to Blake's face, but her shared desire for this to happen made her nod imperceptibly, consenting. She lowered her eyes.

"Hey, look at me," Yang murmured, making Blake meet her regard again. The blonde's expression was gentler now. "I've got you. I promise."

This was, against Blake's expectations, much more appeasing than she had anticipated. When Yang leaned in to kiss the crook of her neck, Blake found herself embracing her partner tenderly, muscles relaxing under the golden girl's touch. Yang's kisses were intermittent, lips hovering over Blake's skin so she could breathe as she deliberately traveled to the Faunus' throat, then to her collarbone. At the same time, careful hands slowly slipped the yukata down Blake's shoulders, baring more of her skin little by little.

It was painstaking, but Blake became incredibly aware of Yang's every kiss, every torrid exhale washing over her senses and feeding the flame burning deep within her. She closed her eyes, her grip on her girlfriend tightening. However, Yang paused when her lips reached Blake's upper chest.

"Oh my God, Blake. Your heart. Are you sure you're okay? Like, I can literally _feel_ it racing."

Well, this hadn't come as much of a surprise—in fact, Blake had feared a much worse reaction. Still, she was a bit flustered. "Y-yeah, I'm fine." Really, she just wanted Yang to continue. It wasn't like she could do anything about her heart beating in sync with her anticipation, anyway.

It seemed, though, that, Yang being Yang—too selfless and caring for her own good—would need more than a simple, dishonest "I'm fine" to keep going. She had already begun to pull away when Blake decided to add—almost under her breath—"Don't stop. …Please." Her own request made her blush more. But how else could she have communicated her want without making a complete fool out of herself?

Yang again froze, hands halfway down Blake's biceps, keeping the yukata from baring the raven-haired girl's chest completely. Lilac met golden for a second, and then Yang suddenly caught Blake with a firm kiss on the lips, lasting long enough that Blake had to gasp for air again when the blonde eventually separated from it. "Wh…What was that—"

"You're amazing."

Blake knew where Yang's hands were. Frankly, by this point, she didn't care. Unfortunately, she couldn't find words to return the compliment right now. She simply watched as the brawler's hands let go of the silken nightwear. And, at that moment, this became real—realer than it had already been.

There was a certain awe evident in Yang's expression. A pausing, curious light shone behind her lilac irises, making Blake feel even more bared than she physically was. Yang scrutinized her partner, yet did so caringly, as though she were a mapmaker, memorizing and detailing every hill and valley. But she didn't stop there, a fact that made Blake stiffen. A coarse yet soft hand found the Faunus' right side, and, not an instant later, every past scratch and scrape and cut that had formed this brawler's gentle fingers was felt by the Faunus. Small jolts of electricity coursed up her abdomen as that hand ascended.

Yang glanced at Blake, once again verifying that everything was all right, just as her fingers lightly trailed up and across Blake's shoulders and then down Blake's chest, tracing slowly along the side of her right breast. Blake held her breath, keeping as still as she possibly could. She couldn't help the goosebumps, though. With Yang looking so openly—fascinatedly?—at her like this, she didn't know how to react. Yang's intrigue was so disconcerting, yet the touch of her hand felt, somehow, calming. It was an odd paradox, but far was it from unpleasant.

When their eyes met again, Yang looked like she was about to say something. However, before she could mouth the first syllable, she decided against it and leaned up to kiss Blake again. Blake gladly accepted the gesture as she practically hugged the blonde's head.

The intensity of the kiss amplified, yet Yang's hand remained gentle. However, it did nothing to stop the extra leverage gained from the newly emboldened kiss, Yang's greater lean forcing the Faunus back somewhat. Perhaps Yang was simply in her own head—and, frankly, Blake could not blame her, being no different, herself—but the lean kept furthering, and Blake kept having to bend back until at last their balance was broken.

The kiss was interrupted, not only with a gasp but with an "Eep!" Yang's lean became too much for either, causing them both to lose their seating and fall together onto the bottom end of the mattress. The air in the bed coughed out as Blake and a bracing hand from Yang fell heavily down. It took a moment for the former to realize what had just happened, her eyes unfocused because of the kiss, but soon she saw Yang above her—sheepish and panting. Blake realized that she, herself, was breathing roughly, too. But when their eyes met again and a smile formed on Yang's lips, no lack of oxygen could dissuade either from laughing.

"Wow, Yang," Blake chuckled, more confidently than she expected from herself in this situation. " _Real_ smooth."

"More like real _smooch_."

There was no retort that Blake wanted to offer besides a friendly scoff. She let her laughter die down while holding the blonde's gaze, knowing full well that her head had landed only a few inches from the floorboards and that she was halfway bared before her partner. But neither of those things mattered anymore. She was too happy to care.

Yang seemed to think similarly, letting her giggle fade before leaning down and kissing Blake once more. They continued as if nothing had happened, despite the fact that the mattress tended to deflate this far down. Riding this wave of happiness and mirth, Blake returned to holding her girlfriend, hands slipping between the brawler's arms and drawing her close. Likewise, her legs had come to wrap themselves around Yang's thighs and calves, the Faunus' body doing anything it could to keep that warm presence near.

The kiss was as fervid as it ever had been, their lips pressing against and holding on to each other in a soft battle for dominance. But Yang seemed to have not been satisfied with just this. She moved away from Blake's face, lips finding the Faunus' throat again and pressing firmly to its side. Blake's breathing grew heavier as this kiss continued downward—to the shoulders and collarbone. She brushed a hand through Yang's hair as hot breath washed down across her sternum. Indeed, Yang was quite the cartographer, her hands surveying the lands of Blake's hips while her kisses ventured further down.

But then she stopped. Blake saw a smirk as Yang rose up midway through her exploring. The Faunus, supine, now stared up at the kneeling blonde above her, confused and incredibly distracted. Yang's smirk gave her words a teasing edge. "Is it hot in here?" she asked. "Or is it just me?"

"Uhh," tried Blake, scrambling for something— _anything_ —until at last she found, "both?"

"Glad you agree. Now help me get this shirt off."

All things considered, it wasn't much of a surprise that Blake needed a brief moment for that to register in her mind. When it _did_ , however, her eyes widened, and she felt her blush rise all the way to the tips of her cat ears. Well then. _Oh_.

It seemed that Yang, ever the eternal goofball, was taking a mighty pleasure in Blake's flustered state. She grinned. "Or, you know, I could do it myself." This was followed by a very obvious wink.

That Blake had to actually consider both options and determine which one she preferred was probably a little sad. Maybe she _was_ a pervert. Still, it didn't take her long to decide that she didn't want Yang getting anything _off_ on her own. Blake deliberately sat up and allowed herself to steal another kiss. "You're incorrigible," she murmured as she pulled away, fingers trailing down to the hem of Yang's orange tank top.

The seductive smile that played on the blonde's lips was both alarming and—frankly—hot. "Nah. Just horny." The admittance was blunt, but it was abundantly clear that Yang knew the exact effect she was having on Blake.

Case in point, Blake almost choked. She tried several times to reply but failed to speak at all. Scratch that, her mind went into all the corners she really didn't visit often, spurring only unbidden and _very_ obscene images instead of anything resembling a useable word.

Yang laughed at Blake's reaction—low and husky—and the Faunus became convinced that the golden girl shouldn't have had any right to laugh like that. Anything _that_ sexual should have been against the law. Therefore, Blake couldn't exactly be held accountable for her actions. At least, that was her justification. She gripped the hem of Yang's shirt and, with minimal awkwardness—or so she liked to think, at least—pulled it over the buxom blonde's head, quickly discarding it to the side.

And because Blake had slightly more _class_ than Yang, she didn't just sit and stare. Well, to be honest, she did a little bit. Because how could she not? Yang, in all sincerity, in every aspect, was gorgeous. From the cascading locks of messy, golden hair to the mischievous, amorous glint in her striking lilac irises and all the way down from the hard lines of her collarbone to the softness of her chest, Yang rendered Blake speechless. Also, her curves were to die for. A perfect blend of toned muscle and feminine beauty, instead of helping the temperature of the room drop, Yang's sensual form seemed to make it spike. The warmth Blake was feeling all over definitely intensified, and dear God, would her heart _please_ stop thudding so fast and so loudly?

Blake found herself embracing Yang, kissing her neck, nibbling on her collarbone. The brawler pulled Blake onto her lap, fingers tracing patterns on the raven-haired girl's bared back and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Blake barely contained a shudder. Yang's chest was heaving with every breath, and Blake was surprised to hear the blonde's heart beating rapidly, too.

It was funny, really, how Yang never hid her emotions. She was an open book, her heart always on her sleeve, and the fact that it was racing now only confirmed Yang's pure candor. It was encouraging—and flattering—to know that Blake was the cause of everything she was observing about her girlfriend, that despite the bookworm's inexperience, she could still make Yang feel this way.

Her hand wandered down, raking nails across the rolling plains of Yang's abdomen, following every bump and crease, and Yang shuddered, one of her hands cradling Blake's head and scratching just at the base of her cat ears. The Faunus hummed appreciatively, closing her eyes and continuing to kiss Yang's smooth, burning skin. Unpredictable as usual, Yang, making sure to keep her grip on Blake tight, let herself fall on her back and brought her partner down with her—returning to the upper part of the mattress.

Blake raised herself up only a bit, gold meeting lilac through the darkness in the room. Fires roiled all the way into her fingertips, and seeing Yang so genuinely affected was an igniting fuel. She was beautiful, and the need to show her and make her feel like it continued to grant Blake just enough confidence to keep trying. Plus, Yang was so expressive—both in the verbal and non-verbal—that Blake had only to watch for telling signals that showed what worked best for her partner.

"You're amazing, too," she finally returned in a tone close to a whisper. It was strange—Blake was still nervous, but she was comfortable now, too. This felt right.

Yang chuckled a bit breathlessly, passing a hand through her lustrous blonde locks and licking her lips—another sin. "Kitten, you're killing me…"

This, bizarrely—but not so bizarrely, in afterthought—kicked Blake's mind into overdrive. Yang wanted this, wanted Blake, mirroring the Faunus' own desires. She couldn't, in good conscience, withhold that from her girlfriend any longer. And although she had no idea if this was going to work, Blake supposed it was worth a try. She raised herself up more, one hand still fondly tracing the muscles of Yang's abdomen, and just as she was hovering her nose along the golden girl's shoulder, firmly planted her knee between Yang's upper thighs.

Yang's reaction was instantaneous. Her breath caught, hitched, abs noticeably flexing and releasing under Blake's fingers as she bucked her hips once, searching for more friction. Blake's eyes widened, surprised to feel the warm humidity through Yang's thin shorts—another proof that Yang hadn't been lying, despite her tease—and…frankly…aroused by such a positive response.

To say the least, Yang was _definitely_ breathing harshly now. "Oh my God, _Blake_ …"

And Blake shivered, cat ears twitching, wondering if Yang's voice might just be her undoing, especially if the blonde said Blake's name like _that_. Again, a dream come true and an anxious nightmare.

She wanted to focus on that dream part, though. Doing so would definitely help. Eyes blazing, Blake descended from Yang's shoulder, trailing a light kiss as she went, until she met the yielding flesh of Yang's left breast. This was met with a restrained breath, and when Blake looked up, pausing her trek downwards, she found that her girlfriend was similarly blushing. Whether this was because of arousal or similar nervousness to her girlfriend's own, Blake had no clue. Nevertheless, hints of both could be seen in her pleading lilac eyes. They made Blake smile as she continued.

The Faunus refocused on her objective, making slow, certain movements up the slope of her girlfriend's breast. Her hands travelled with her, brushing along Yang's sides, while her mind lingered on the softness of Yang's skin. Lighter kisses were contrasted with harder kisses, Blake testing the firmness, and lack thereof, of every part of Yang Xiao Long. But it was not only about the test's results; rather, the rising temperature that increased with every inch was the goal of Blake's expedition. They were proof that she was doing a good job—the tests and ragged breaths were merely added benefits.

But then Yang's hips bucked again. Flitting her eyes upward and checking on the blonde, Blake found that Yang was propping herself up on her forearms, a look of stupor gracing her features. Yang was indeed still here mentally, but Blake could tell that the previous reaction had been involuntary. Yang's eyes had remained where they were before—locked on Blake.

Blake looked down again and surprised herself. She was face-to-"face" with Yang's nipple, the proud bud having grown sensitive to Blake's touch. Hesitantly, she leaned in and offered an experimental lick, observing the even greater hip buck _this_ received. Deciding she liked that reaction, Blake tried again and found a similar, if not lesser, response. Not wanting to add to any frustration, she moved her knee again, giving Yang all the friction she could get as the ministrations on her chest continued.

With this same idea in mind, Blake, being tentative at first, wandered one of her hands along Yang's waist and hip, caressing firm muscles while she continued to lick Yang's hardening bud. The feeling of those hips thrusting both under her hand and against her knee momentarily sent Blake's mind reeling. Her right hand continued its path around the curve of the brawler's hip, palm resting against the side of her rear, and gripped hard enough to encourage the bucking and provide even more pressure for her girlfriend.

This elicited a gasp and a deep moan. " _Blake_ ," Yang managed, "with you doing that, you look like a—"

Suddenly, with the mood teetering on demise, Blake stopped. "Don't say it. I _will_ bite you."

"Ooh _,_ " Yang laughed, forcing her speech through the evidently overwhelming sensations.

This caused Blake to pull away, if only by an inch. "And not in a nice way."

" _Ooh_ _ **.**_ My heavens, Blakey. You know _just_ the things to say to a girl. **"**

Blake just stared at her for a second, trying to figure out if this was simply Yang joking around or if she _wanted_ to spoil the mood. Or get bit. Either way, that wouldn't happen tonight. The Faunus shook her head and returned to pleasing Yang. She moved to her partner's right breast now and repeated her actions from before, lavishing Yang with affection until the brawler's hips were erratically thrusting against Blake's knee, and even Blake couldn't help her own spiking arousal.

Perhaps more than anything else, those thrusts were what, to use Yang's parlance, got Blake's engines _really_ revving. There was something so… _animal_ about them that made Blake slightly, and regrettably, neglect her current objective. Her balance swayed, her knee slipped an inch, and Yang's motions only grew in protest.

" _Ugh_ ," Yang groaned. "Are you really going to tease me? It was just getting… _huh_ , good."

Blake's mind stood still for a moment, not necessarily thinking, but it did continue to motivate. Something about those bucks, those groans, made her feel emboldened—so much so that when she met Yang's wild eyes with her own, she found herself kneeling without realizing it, releasing her girlfriend entirely. Her hand went to the bow of her yukata and pulled, allowing the silken garb to fall on the now-tangled mass of blankets. Her mind was racing, and while the majority of her thoughts told her to stay calm and composed, something deeper within begged her to indulge that bolder, impatient side.

So, she did, husking back, "Now I am."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY. DOWN HERE. LOOK. THIS IS NOT THE END OF THE STORY. THERE WILL BE A CHAPTER TWO. WHAT YOU JUST EXPERIENCED WAS A CLIFFHANGER. NOT THE END OF THE STORY. SO, IF I SEE ANY REVIEWS FROM YOU ASKING 'YWU, WHY DID YOU END THE STORY THERE?' I WILL ACTUALLY END THE STORY HERE. THERE ARE FIVE CHAPTERS, BUT IF YOU DON'T BEHAVE, THERE WILL BE ONE. GOT IT?
> 
> Actually, because I'm spineless, the story will continue regardless. I'm just letting you know that the ending above is not the ending and that the next chapter, as well as chapters three through five, will come out two days after each other. The entire story is already written and edited, so just wait a couple of days, and come back then.
> 
> Ok. That's all. Ciao, bambini!


	2. What You Want

Giving only a fleeting glance at the surprise and fever behind her girlfriend's eyes, Blake returned to where she had been, but sinking lower and forgoing her knee entirely. Blake's hands remained on Yang's chest as lips found the blonde's sternum. She nuzzled it fondly, rolling Yang's nipples under her thumbs, understanding that what came immediately below was, by far, her favorite part of her strong partner. She placed a kiss on Yang's abdomen, moving her hands to caress the underlying muscles gingerly just like she had wanted to ever since they had begun dating. Although Yang never _focused_ on her abs—eating comfortably and training her core more than anything—results were evident, and Blake was a fan.

But she would have months, perhaps even years, to focus more on Yang's abs. Tonight was for something else, and if the fire in Blake's chest and the inferno in Yang's eyes had anything to say about it, _now_ was the time for something else. The bookworm's hands left Yang's abs to find her shorts.

"This is so not cool," Yang confided weakly between two breaths. One of her hands was clutching the sheets while the other was through her hair again, and now that Blake was actually taking the time to _look_ , the very dim light of the moon peeking in through the window revealed a thin sheen of sweat covering Yang's skin.

It occurred to Blake rather suddenly—and, really, as a rare reversal of roles—that she had Yang at her mercy…or lack thereof. It was somewhat of a novel feeling, being in control of this uncontrollable social butterfly. This spurred her to reply nonchalantly, "Depends whose perspective you're looking from." She wasn't going to abuse this power, of course, but teasing Yang just a little bit longer for all the times the goofball had insisted on torturing _her_ felt poetic, in some just way.

Yang made a noise between a scoff and a pant. "I always knew you were the…the vindictive type."

Blake glided her fingers along the hem of Yang's shorts before leaning down and laying a brief kiss just below the blonde's navel. "I hear the taste of revenge is sweet," she offered as a justification, sitting back up and making sure she captured Yang's gaze before licking her lips slowly.

The golden girl visibly—and very audibly—swallowed. "You're enjoying this way too much," she mumbled, voice strained.

Blake tilted her head a little, and although it might have been a bit of a strange moment for this realization to dawn on her, she was struck by the wonder of what was happening—struck by the wonder of Yang. She was sharing these intimate minutes with the woman she loved, learning and exploring more about her, attempting to satisfy her in an entirely different manner than in their everyday interactions. And Blake had to take this opportunity to appreciate— _wholeheartedly_ appreciate—Yang and the joy that ray of sunshine brought to the Faunus' life. Blake truly was grateful that this beautiful blonde gave so much care and attention—so selflessly, so generously—to _her_. It had always been far more than she could have ever dreamed of, always made her feel special.

And so it seemed only fair that Blake would try her hardest to overcome her nervousness and lack of confidence, if only to please Yang proportionally to how much she loved her—entirely, without doubt or question—and to treat her in the admiring, devoted way Blake had long thought of her.

So, overwhelmed with that wave of affection, she susurrated Yang's name, hands going under the elastic of the brawler's shorts and pushing them down slowly, palms flat against the exterior of Yang's thighs as she went. "I've got you, I promise," she finally murmured in response, hoping her voice transmitted the emotions she was feeling. As Blake's fingers came to hold the crook of Yang's knees, she softly kissed the golden girl's right hip and whispered against her skin, lips hovering towards her leg, "And I assure you that I'm going to savor _every second_." She emphasized her words with lingering, tender kisses along Yang's inner thigh, her musk both maddening on Blake's senses and urging her to continue.

" _Blake_ ," Yang moaned, and the Faunus shuddered, intensely liking that _sound_. Blake could feel powerful muscles under her touch tensing and relaxing repeatedly, signs of Yang's unrest—and anticipation, too, if the desperate plea in her voice was any indication. It was marvelous to discover Yang's body so intimately, marvelous that Yang even existed at all.

Blake could suppose that her girlfriend was getting close, but having never done this before, it became apparent she would need Yang to articulate some form of hint. And because she wasn't sure which buttons to press to prompt that kind of clue, she would need to ask. She finished removing Yang's shorts, and, still gently caressing and nuzzling the brawler's thighs, Blake purred, "What do you want right now, Yang?"

"Apart from you?" came the breathless answer.

Blake nodded, ignoring how flatteringly cheesy Yang insisted on being and closing her eyes to better enjoy the blonde's scent, nose hovering along her leg. "Yes, apart from me." She tightened her hold, laying a firmer kiss on the indent of Yang's hipbone, feeling the heat clearly radiating from within her girlfriend's body. Blake's very blood seemed to be pounding, her heart was beating so hard.

Yang's back seemed to arch a little as she inhaled sharply, sheets bunched up between the iron clasp of her fingers as she reclined once more. "Blake, I'm literally _dying_ …" she panted, apparently unable to provide a more detailed answer.

Still, it was enough. Despite the obvious exaggeration—Blake knew Yang wasn't _actually_ dying—the fact that she couldn't even articulate what she was feeling told the Faunus everything she needed to know.

Not being one to enjoy her girlfriend's pain—at least, not for too long—Blake decided to stop talking for the moment. Her mouth was better used elsewhere. She pulled back to graze her lips against Yang's knee, staring pointedly at the girl before her. But when that _dying_ , pleading gaze met Blake, the girl in black turned her own gaze crudely downward, making a show of it for Yang's anticipatory sake. Trying to make her movements seem nonchalant, Blake closed her eyes as she kissed her partner's knee again, her hands meanwhile moving downwards, hidden from Yang's view. But when fingers grazed Yang's underwear, both pairs of eyes shot open again, one in appreciative shock, the other in predatory amusement.

"Please…?"

However, when Blake's fingers began to curl around the elastic band, her mind froze and, therefore, so did the rest of her. She was already taking the next step in her and Yang's relationship, and they had both already consented to what would come next, but there was something necessarily _real_ about this next part. Almost viscerally so. It made Blake internally cower again, wanting to just go to sleep on separate sides of the bed and talk about this in the morning—or, more preferably, never. But that wouldn't be fair to Yang, nor would it be to Blake, either. They wanted this relationship—this love and this home they would build together—and the fire in Blake's heart simply would not let her back down.

She let out a breath she did not realize she was holding in and then smiled, showing Yang preemptively that there was nothing wrong. Her fingers curled around the elastic again and, finally, pulled.

Blake removed the lacy black garb and let it fall with her yukata and Yang's top, steeling herself at what she saw and trying to ignore the incessant heat that was burning now through her abdomen and across her cheeks. She looked away but found herself looking back. Maybe she was being a bit prudish—for some reason, _this_ , despite being part of Yang, made Blake feel incredibly awkward—but perhaps she could also chalk this up to inexperience and "innocence."

To be perfectly honest, she had no idea what she was doing. And that was more than a little grating on the nerves—intimidating, even—knowing that she had brought Yang this far—had made her this wet—and might not be able to finish what she had started, all thanks to her inexperience.

But, then again, doing nothing was probably worse than trying _something_. And Yang had never made fun of Blake or purposely degraded her for any past failures or mistakes. _That_ , if anything, finally motivated Blake to move.

And all of _those_ thoughts only took two seconds for Blake to conclude, her mind had begun racing so fast again. Which was fortunate, really, because Yang would have probably noticed something _was_ wrong despite the state she was in.

Blake tentatively made her way back up Yang's thigh, feeling like her own body temperature was equaling that of the girl before her—so, like, _on fire_ described this accurately—and settled her hands on Yang's hips firmly. She wasn't going to let the brawler move too much for this, that was a certainty.

Yang responded with a bit of a protest, letting out a frustrated groan, but Blake wasn't going to budge, not this time. She took one more second to gather her courage and then tried one experimental, slow lick with the flat of her tongue from bottom to top

…and found that it wasn't too bad. Also, restraining Yang's hips from bucking was a feat in and of its own self. The blonde's back arched instead, and the breath she exhaled might as well have been a moan.

Blake figured this might have been a positive response, but she had to make sure. "Is that okay?"

It actually took a brief moment before she received an answer. "Less talking!" struggled Yang, voice desperate. "More tongue!" Even in these trying times, Yang could always make Blake chuckle.

The Faunus did not say anything in response, leaning down instead so she could get back to work. Her tongue moved gently over the bottom of Yang's labia and up again, stopping just below her clit, lapping fluid as she went. Yang groaned again, and though the sound was fun to hear, Blake had mercy on her. Her mouth moved down, letting her nose brush against the bundle of nerves as she dug in deeper. This, however, only made Yang's hips want to thrust up more. It was a bit annoying, really, but Blake didn't mind—just as Yang worked out, so did she.

In truth, Blake found herself somewhat liking this. Scratch that—the reactions Yang was giving her—the ragged breaths and the audible gripping of the sheets, not to mention all the essence trickling from her—gave Blake cause to _really_ like this. She found her own pleasure in pleasing Yang, making the regularly upright blonde crumble beneath her tongue. It was…gratifying—especially so with Yang unwittingly splayed out as she was—and that made Blake give extra effort, which, in turn, received extra results.

Eventually, though, Yang's splayed out position changed, her legs coming to wrap around a surprised Blake's head. "Oh—Oh, God! Why did we wait so long…so long to _do_ this?" Considering how occupied Blake's mouth was, the Faunus couldn't respond. But this was timely since Yang intended on continuing. "I love you…hah…kitten," she exhaled, relief making itself clear in her tone. " _God_ , I love you."

Blake was glad to hear that. She was so glad, in fact, that her hands moved, one of her forearms coming to rest across Yang's pelvis, taking the role of two, while a hand came to rest beneath her own chin. Yang looked at her, imploring through her lustful haze. Blake was happy to oblige, removing her mouth from Yang and licking her own lips now—in equal parts teasing and savoring—so she could watch the blonde's reaction.

Lilac eyes shot up and open again as Blake's finger prodded Yang's entrance. Being that her hips were restrained and thus could not buck, Yang's legs reacted in their stead, constricting around Blake's shoulders and drawing the onyx-haired girl in. But that was fine. Blake found that she liked it this way. She kept her eyes on her partner's reaction as her mouth descended on Yang's waiting clit. Likewise, her finger pressed further in, and another shudder marked its passage into Yang.

The blonde swore under her breath, and it was then that Blake found her cue to begin again. The flat of her tongue pressed firmly against her girlfriend's bud while her finger sunk further in. And although Blake did benefit because of her actions, the benefit Yang was receiving made this step—this step she had foolishly hesitated to make—infinitely more rewarding. She was enjoying herself—enjoying Yang, with the softness of her thighs' skin and the unique taste of her musk—and whatever nerves she had about this situation melted away with every moan and restrained thrust of Yang's hips.

But then the beauty above her wheezed Blake's name. " _Blake_ ¸" she stressed, drawling the syllable out. That was why Blake did this—that right there. As vain as it was, she _loved_ hearing the effect she had on Yang. It made her feel like she was doing right by her partner, and, really, that was all she could hope for tonight.

Blake's finger began a slow, pistoning motion. Her tongue began to flick in small, rapid movements. Yang's hips began to press against them. And her right hand released its grip on the bed to comb through the Faunus' hair. Surprisingly, however, her touch was gentle.

Her fingertips only glided across Blake's hair, brushing a few strands out of her face and moving up to caress the upright cat ears on her head. This came with more serrations of the dark-haired girl's name, but Blake could not help but simper at the gesture.

Finding the mental balance between controlling her finger and her tongue proved more difficult than she had imagined, though. Whenever she found herself enjoying Yang's taste, she would find that her finger slowed. And whenever she found that she enjoyed the tightening and releasing of Yang's slick, heated walls, Blake would forget her tongue. But if she focused hard enough, she could find a happy medium—one she could maintain for longer than five seconds.

The fingers on Blake's ears began to scratch. Unfortunately, this did not help the arousal the Faunus was trying to ignore. Yang was, most likely, trying to be kind, and while Blake did appreciate the gesture as such, it only added to the list of things that she had to push to the back of her mind. She knew there would be a point at which these suppressions would fail her, and if Yang became more involved, then Blake knew she would have a much harder time. As much as she loved doing this for Yang, some part of her, frankly, did want it to end soon.

It was in her favor, though, that Yang's breaths began to grow shallow, her scratching fingers pausing for seconds at a time. She breathed Blake's name again, then again, and her legs tightened once more. Her skin, from what part of her thighs Blake could see, all the way up to her cheeks, was flushed and glistening with sweat, and her head was somewhere below her arched chest.

Blake had to shut her eyes if she hoped to maintain her pace. The sight of anything Yang at the moment was an absolutely maddening distraction—the blonde was so evidently _close_...

The hand on Blake's head disappeared, only for that fist to hit the mattress before immediately gripping the sheets tightly again.

"God, _Blake_! _Yes_!"

Yang's body tensed for a few nerve-racked heartbeats, before her hips began thrusting so hard that Blake had to brace her arm and actually put most of her focus into pinning the brawler's pelvis down. She was certain this wasn't even Yang's full strength at play, and that was saying something. Further, this went without even mentioning the electricity jolting through Blake's nerves at hearing her own name uttered with so much _passion_. Still, Blake did her best to draw her girlfriend's orgasm out as long as she could, wanting this release as much as Yang did and meeting every subtle throb of Yang's core with a gentle pressure of her tongue.

" _Ugh_ ," came another muted, drawled moan, and Blake glanced upwards to see Yang muffling her cries into a pillow, torso rotated to hug it possessively. "…Bla- _ake_ …Bla- _ahh_..."

Her hips refused to relent, demanding more, and it occurred to the raven-haired girl that she could provide just that by adjusting her tactic somewhat and lightly sucking Yang's clit between soft licks. Yang made a sort of choked sound, body shuddering once, twice, while she wheezed and pleaded unintelligibly. It was only when the hard pressing of Yang's hips against her partner's mouth finally weakened that Blake released her companion's still throbbing bundle of nerves, and the blonde collapsed with one last incredibly sensual moan, her legs letting go of Blake's shoulders.

The Faunus carefully raised herself back up, licking her lips again and freeing Yang's pelvis from the trap of her forearm. Slowly, Yang's restless muscles seemed to relax enough for her spine to stop arching, her arms loosening their hold on the pillow, too. The brawler's hips continued to thrust only slightly and at sporadic intervals against Blake's fingers, and the raven-haired girl found herself entranced by how Yang's muscles moved with the motions. Her considerable chest was still heaving, but her breathing was less shallow now. Little by little, Yang was regaining her composure.

Blake slipped her fingers out and, because she had grown used to the taste and even kind of liked it—having associated it with an immense amount of pleasure—decided to lick those clean of the fluid, too.

"God, Blake…"

The Faunus' eyes turned upwards and caught Yang, propped on one elbow now—although still leaning partially over the pillow—staring at her with a mix of emotions, awe reflecting in her lilac irises and amusement by the quirk of her eyebrows. There was something else, too, but Blake couldn't quite identify it.

And it was meeting Yang's gaze like this that made Blake realize what she had done. She had just made love to Yang Xiao Long. She had touched, kissed, and even _lavished_ Yang with her affection, and somehow, it had been enough to make the beautiful blonde come undone—right before her eyes. And Yang was looking at her girlfriend like Blake had just made the world stop, and Blake was looking at Yang like the blonde was her world, and, for all intents and purposes, both were right, and they were happy because their worlds had come together in one of the most intimate manners possible—truly, and not by way of some dream.

This last thought, however blissful it might have been, also reminded Blake of the sleepiness she had pushed to the back of her mind—along with a lot of other things, but those were beside the point.

"Have I said how much I love you?" Yang eventually murmured, tilting her head only slightly, invitingly.

Blake smiled, gratified and feeling quite accomplished. "I think maybe a few times." She gladly approached her girlfriend, nuzzling her head into the crook of Yang's neck and closing her eyes. "I love you, too. A lot." She took a moment to appreciate that Yang was like a living radiator—really, she had to appreciate that Yang was the greatest thing that had ever happened to her, period. Also, she smelled _fantastic_.

Yang's hand found the Faunus' cat ears again, scratching gently at the base of them. A kiss was laid at the top of Blake's head. "So, Blake…" she started. "Ready for your turn?"

Blake's eyes immediately shot open, and the blush reappeared on her cheeks. "Uh." She pushed away from the golden girl in a bit of alarm, moving to sit a close distance from her propped-up partner. "What?" she asked, not sure she understood. Her mind had already begun to drift, believing sleep had been minutes away.

"Blake! You actually thought I'd let you get away with that?"

"Get away with what?" Blake was befuddled. For all the bookworm's wit and knowledge, sometimes Yang's rapid thought progressions continued to escape her. And being so tired put her at a bit of a disadvantage in these games of conversation.

Yang smiled a little, vaguely amused but mostly sultry. She sat up, too, and leaned in close, laying a kiss on Blake's cheek, then on her neck—and, suddenly, Blake remembered her searing desire, goosebumps crawling up her spine as that darned flame returned with a passion—and murmured, "Making me come twice like there's nothing to it."

Blake's eyes widened, heart thudding and burning all over. "T-twice? Um, when…?"

Now it was Yang's turn to pull away and look confounded. "You mean you didn't even _notice_ …?"

Blake didn't know what to think anymore. Her mind refused to operate like it normally did, and the only thing she seemed to process at the moment was extreme lust and how absolutely _tantalizing_ Yang was—still was. Honestly, the Faunus didn't know if she should have been ashamed for not realizing that she had given Yang two orgasms, or if she should have been pleased because she had pleasured Yang enough for that feat.

"Do you have any idea how badly I want to stick my tongue in—"

"W-wait. No. Um…" Blake's mind continued to race with the beat of her heart, cheeks on fire. This was a little…much. More than a little. She covered her face with her hands, trying to breathe like a normal person. "I'm not…uh… That makes me uncomfortable."

She found that her apprehension wasn't necessarily due to her _not_ wanting Yang to follow through with the idea, but the idea, itself, did make Blake self-conscious—enough to be overwhelmingly anxious. And that…was frightening.

Yang seemed to pause, momentarily…taken aback? But then she said, recovering smoothly and with a bright grin, "Okay, no problem. But you're still getting off tonight, whether you like it or not."

Blake was forced to wonder if Yang knew of her magical ability to read thoughts—maybe even emotions. There was no way she didn't know just how much her words were affecting Blake. The Faunus' heart was pounding, her lungs weren't working normally, her body was exceedingly warm, Yang was being impossible to resist, and it was a combination of all these factors—and more, really—that made Blake aware of just how very little it would take to make her topple over the edge. That was _also_ cause for hesitation, but Blake couldn't help it much if pleasuring Yang had been more than a bit enticing. Really, if Blake hadn't been so easily turned right back on and overtaken with an intense need for Yang, she would have insisted for sleep.

But Yang, in all her generous, loving, and selfless spirit, had completely snapped Blake out of her drowsiness— _again_ —with a couple kisses and a few well-chosen words. What time was it again? It didn't matter, really—not when a certain _someone_ had sex at the forefront of her mind.

…Actually, that could have been Yang _or_ Blake, if the raven-haired girl was honest with herself.

Even if Blake hadn't responded, there must have been something about her expression that cued Yang into motion. The blonde leaned in to kiss Blake on the lips, slow but incredibly passionate, arms snaking around the quieter girl to draw her closer. "Do you wanna know what's really sexy?" she murmured, her voice so husky and attractive that Blake was tempted to use it as an answer.

She remained quiet, though, too busy pushing herself up and against Yang's body, fingers losing themselves in those golden locks and reciprocating the kiss like she just couldn't get enough. Which was true, really. She might have been in need of air, too, as her breathing had become sporadic and harsh, inhaling and exhaling only when she absolutely had to between kisses. Blake was reaching a point where she didn't care anymore, though. She just really, _really_ wanted Yang.

And not sleep.

Suddenly, Yang pulled away just a little, just enough for Blake to open her amber eyes and give her girlfriend a dazed yet urgent look as long, calloused fingers crept along the Faunus' jaw. Yang grinned and winked, "Tasting myself on your tongue." And then Yang, taking advantage of how slack Blake's jaw had become at the suggestion, needed only to pull the raven-haired girl close again, removing the space between them and, well, involving her tongue into the kiss far too easily.

Blake's initial reaction was to tense up with a surprised, "Huh!" as she creased her eyebrows, unsure of how to deal with Yang's tongue gently pushing against her own. It quickly occurred to Blake, though, that this was all sorts of scandalous.

But she _liked_ it. More of Yang was an absolutely welcome pleasure that might as well have sent Blake to cloud nine. She pushed back, her grip on the brawler tightening while she felt both the oddly natural feeling of her tongue brushing against her partner's and, as well, an inescapable ache in her nether regions, which began to make itself very much known.

Yang was right. It was unbearably _hot_ in the room. Or maybe it actually was just Yang. And as if that weren't enough, the blonde's hands found Blake's hips next, teasing along the hem of her underwear. Blake truly was beginning to know why Yang's descriptive use of " _dying_ " seemed entirely applicable here.

At this rate, Yang was going to kill her, no doubt.

Blake usually took pride in her composure—her sangfroid in the face of some of Remnant's greatest dangers—and as well her taciturn demeanor, which contrasted her partner's energy and current expressiveness. Despite all of this, though, silence did not come easy. All these things Yang was doing to her—from her smoldering voice to her hot tongue—was chipping away at Blake's defenses. Blake felt like she could come undone at any moment, any movement, and the closeness of this kiss wasn't helping her stay calm.

And then Yang made the struggle so much harder.

Blake felt the hand on her waistband move—not far, but that was the problem. Yang's fingers were made of fire, burning slowly down the curve of Blake's rear before the fire left them and consumed the Faunus as Yang squeezed. Whatever space was left between them was eliminated, Yang pulling Blake flush against her as their hips began to grind together and as the hand not gripping Blake continued to brush against the waistband, drawing small, teasing, descending circles beneath Blake's navel.

A swirl of sensations coursed through Blake's veins, and to both her surprise and mild horror, she couldn't contain the loud, _shameless_ moan she let out into Yang's mouth. "Ahh- _nn_!" But this only made things worse. Not only did Blake's mind become entirely focused on shame and the burning blush thereof, Yang moaned back.

" _God_ , Blake. This might be even better than before." Yang pulled away, staring intently—longingly—into her girlfriend's eyes. "Watching you squirm like this is getting _me_ hot. And I just came!"

Blake tried to protest, still too embarrassed to fully grasp Yang's meaning. Instead, she shuddered, muttering to somehow excuse her moan, "I, uh… It's not—"

But Yang didn't let her continue. She squeezed harder, leaned in to kiss deeper, and lowered her thumb's circles dangerously further, causing Blake's mind to stagger yet again, abandoning herself to Yang's ardor. Another moan escaped her, much more restrained, but Yang's lips still curved into a smile.

"Oh, I'm going to have fun with you," she murmured into the kiss, before gripping her partner's upper lip in both her own.

Her thumb slid under Blake's waistband, apparently grazing every nerve on the Faunus' hip as it went. No more sounds, Blake promised herself. It was too much. She grit her teeth as she felt her final piece of clothing—her last vestige of _not naked_ —begin to leave her. She needed to suppress this noise—she needed to close her eyes and think of something else, something else to push back this feeling. She just couldn't… Feeling this pleasure was one thing, but what if the neighbors heard? That thought alone caused her to hesitate.

However, this train of thought came to an abrupt halt when Yang pulled Blake back to the present moment with a start. She had been so gentle with her motions, so delicate, but then she had not been. With a quick, painless tug, Blake was bared before Yang, red from her torso to her ears.

But then the moment paused. Blake peeked through her tightly shut eyelids, finding Yang looking right back at her. She wasn't smug or joking. She was just smiling. She was just warm.

"Hey. You good?"

"N-no…"

"Aww," she crooned, moving one hand to both toss her partner's torn underwear off the bed and bring a comforting caress to the Faunus' hypersensitive neck. "Blakeyyy." Her other hand moved from Blake's rear to support her lower back, and though its slight travel upward could not be ignored, the genuineness in Yang's eyes was clear. "I'm here with you. And I'm going to take care of you now, okay? Don't worry about a thing. I've got you, kitten."

While this was indeed sweet and reassuring, its effects were daunting, and that did nothing to ease Blake's shyness away. Between the hand that had strayed a little too far south and the absolute certainty in Yang's voice, Blake felt a need to moan—to groan, to do _something_. But her mind, stubborn as it was about that promise of silence, manifested Blake's need the only way it could. She could feel herself shudder in Yang's arms, and the hand on her neck tightened gently. She could then feel every inch of Yang's smile pressed up against her neck, trailing a kiss all the way up to her ear.

Blake could hear music. "You're _incredible_ ," Yang whispered.

And she meant it. Despite all the embarrassment and moaning and shuddering, there came no startled shock when the fingers on Blake's backside crawled across her hips, down across her pelvis, and then across her…

She moaned. That promise _so_ wasn't worth it.

Yang, being the ever-perceptive sort, took a page out of Blake's awkward book and moved to bite the ear she breathed upon. And while this truly was an additive effort on her part, Blake's mind was already reeling at those fingers. She had not even been touched yet. Well, she had, but just not _really_. Yang was teasing her, _playing_ with her, by tracing those frustrating fingers literally everywhere except the areas Blake wanted them to go— _needed_ them to go.

But then one finger broke formation. As Yang brushed up and across her girlfriend's lips, Blake could only gasp. Gasp and shudder again. Her hips bucked into the hand, impatient and thoroughly repentant for Yang's prior predicament—promising herself that she'd never tease Yang like this again—but she was surprised to find the mercy of her girlfriend's palm.

Amber eyes yearned for lilac, wild looks meeting one another. All Blake could do was watch her partner, ask her partner, silently. She was putty in Yang's hands—she was regretting ever doubting this. And as Yang's hand slid down from Blake's neck, all the space between them vanished.

The palm and fingers had done away with teasing, matching Blake's hip thrusts as though doing so were second nature—filling the Faunus and giving her bud just enough pressure to make her squeeze down on the intruding digit. Lightning seemed to spark from her belly. It ignited the flame—furious within her chest. And a sense of calm suffused her with the chances she was given to gaze into her partner's eyes.

The kiss broke off. Breathlessly, Yang begged, "Come for me."

That certainly helped. A lot.

Blake, with a strained noise at the back of her throat, began bucking in earnest. Not only was she allowed her release—not only was Yang _pleading_ for her release—but she wanted it. "Come for me, Blake," Yang said again, and Blake wanted to. She felt that lightning surge throughout her. " _Please_."

That was all it took. Blake choked on her groan, her body and mind seizing up. She shuddered, whimpered, and Yang never let her go. She buried her face in Yang's neck—it was all she could do—as her hug tightened and relief began to wash through her. But then, for some inexplicably joyful reason, she closed her eyes and let tears fall freely onto Yang's shoulder.

She was so happy to have Yang. She was so happy to have this house, this life, this…this. It was all too good for Blake, in her mind. But she would love it all regardless.

"Shh," Yang soothed, running a slow hand up and down the quivering and exhausted Faunus' spine. "Shh."

But this did not help the tears. With breath now restored, Blake lost it again to a sob. She allowed herself to cry against Yang, clinging to her like the girl would leave her forever. But Blake knew Yang never would. She just knew it.

"Shh," continued Yang. "I've got you. I'm right here. It's okay."

It would be okay. It _was_ okay. Blake sniffled and, with breath hitched, pulled away from Yang's shoulders. She was naked in the equally naked blonde's lap, breaths labored and sweat beading down their chests and backs. But she could not care. This was exactly where Blake wanted to be. She felt proud to have done what she did, excited for the life they both had ahead of them, and Yang, the most beautiful woman on Remnant and the biggest, kindest, best fool in the world, loved Blake back. The Faunus felt she did not deserve her, but she would never question their couple again. She was just happy to have kept her partner.

"I love you, Yang Xiao Long," said Blake to those fervent lilac eyes, voice breaking. Her hands found either of the blonde's cheeks. "I love you so much."

Blake pressed forward and kissed her girlfriend, deeply and with all the power she could muster. She was grateful to feel Yang's lips gripping hers just the same. The golden girl let out a small, appreciative moan, which Blake felt the need to mimic.

As the Faunus felt herself being lowered and leaned back against the bed, one hand on her back for stability and another still massaging between her legs for both of their enjoyments, she could not restrain the happy, choked noise that escaped into her girlfriend's mouth. Yes, this was how Blake _truly_ felt. She was not ashamed of her position or her lusts or her release. She was not afraid of making these groans and happy sobs. Blake felt beautiful, somehow, to make them—to be here with Yang. Because without that warm form, now pressing atop the supine bookworm, Blake surely wouldn't have been able to do these things: to give Yang the pleasure she had so long deserved and to give Yang her love. She sighed again into Yang's mouth, both for herself and for that wonderful, precious blonde, as her tears began to slow but dedicated themselves just the same.

Yang laughed a little, pulling away. "Well," she began, starting a joke and gazing into her partner's eyes, " _that_ was quick."

And then came the embarrassment again. Blake looked away, avoiding Yang's eyes, and murmured, voice low and hoarse, "Yeah… Sorry."

"Didn't make it any less hot, TBH."

Strangely, only the mention of Blake's quickness actually embarrassed her. However, the existence of that quickness didn't, being that she wasn't _actually_ quick at all. If she were to play a game of technicalities, she had technically lasted longer than Yang, which, she thought, was an achievement in its own right. This reassured her. She met Yang's gaze again, trying to smirk through misty eyes, "Same…TBH."

A mirthful yet still burning look was in Yang's eyes. She leaned in, stealing another quick kiss from Blake, and breathed hotly against the raven-haired girl's lips. "You know," she husked, an idea evidently on her mind, "there's still one thing I haven't figured out about you."

Blake's ears curiously twitched, but then she went rigid, trying not to react to the shifting of the body atop her. Yang's shoulder struggled as she leaned to the side before, to the Faunus' dismay, she slid her finger out of Blake. It made the girl dread what was to come, yet it also left her with a new feeling of...emptiness, both physically and emotionally. But then, with a wicked smirk, Yang took that finger and brought it into her mouth. Her eyebrows raised in appraisal. Blake's eyes widened in…something. Definitely _something_.

"Hmm!" Yang hummed, pulling her fingers out tantalizingly slow. "I guess that answers my question. I've decided you taste _exquisite_. Divine, even."

Resisting the urge to cover her face, Blake bravely, yet with face beet red, said to her girlfriend, "You're just trying to make me squirm, aren't you?"

"Well, that, and I'm trying to get you off. But yeah." She licked her lips, ravenous. "Time for round two!"

It took all the willpower left in Blake's mind to resist. As Yang began her descent, spurring predictions and memories within Blake's mind, a hand found her partner's shoulder and a nearly regretful equanimity met her smile. "Yang… The sun's coming up." Both pairs of eyes turned to the window. A pale blue light outlined every one of the blinds' shutters and as well the window frame, itself. "I think we should get to sleep. Sorry."

Whether Yang was disappointed or worried, Blake could not tell, but the blonde nevertheless turned again, looking up at the bookworm. "Are you sure? I mean, I can still go if you can…?"

Blake had to smirk. "I know you can, Yang. And we'll do that some other night. But I'm tired now, and all I can think about is sleep. Today just wore me out."

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"Tomorrow," Blake promised.

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow."

"Like, twenty-four hours tomorrow?"

"No, today."

"So, like in a few hours?"

Blake paused, thinking about how to get around this. "Some time after breakfast."

"But how am I going to wait so long?" cried the blonde as she rolled off of Blake's abdomen. She tossed and turned midway down the bed, an obviously tired tantrum that made Blake laugh.

"How indeed," Blake mused, sitting up somewhat so she could take hold of her joking partner. Blake missed her warmth. Yang was pulled up the bed, still grumpy, and came to find her head resting just beneath her partner's chin. "How indeed."

Yang grumbled, "Whatever. At least I have boob pillows to sleep on."

"Don't be crass."

They snuggled closer to one another regardless, Yang's head nuzzling both upwards and inwards. "Mine," she objected, finding solace in Blake's chest. But Blake just shook her head, smiling as she kissed the golden mane before her.

This was nice. Despite the previous tantrum and the blatant acting on Yang's part, everything felt normal again. But different, too. It felt… Well, Blake didn't really know how it felt, but she was sure it felt good. Those sorts of conclusions were best left for tomorrow.

She pulled Yang in tighter, holding that warm girl in her arms as she was held the same, and whispered, "I love you," and found that Yang returned with "I love you, too." And the Faunus' heart swelled. Sleep overtook her quickly, her tired muscles and drained emotions letting her go peacefully into that needed rest with Yang. But she remembered tonight—all of it—and smiled despite her returning tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STILL NOT THE END OF THE STORY. THREE MORE CHAPTERS TO GO.
> 
> TA TA FOR NOW, YOU HOOLIGANS.


	3. So Close

Blake slowly awoke, immediately assaulted by bright daylight despite her eyes being closed. She was fast to bury her face in the pillow, unwilling to leave the uncomfortable comfort of the inflatable mattress just yet. If she could catch just one more hour of sleep…

A noise from somewhere down the hall made her cat ears flicker, pulling her from her drowsiness once more. But she resisted, this time pulling the blanket over her head. Blake wasn't usually this reluctant to get out of bed, but this morning seemed particularly different. She was…groggy. And her muscles ached just a little. What time even was it?

Blake opened her eyes as a more pressing question made itself known. _Where are my clothes?_

And then she remembered. Everything. Including how Yang had… Everything.

Blake took a moment to be staggered before enjoying the memories. They were especially pleasant to entertain, improving her mood to a noticeable degree.

They'd actually made love…not last night—hours ago. After over a year of student responsibilities, schoolwork, dormitory circumstances, and…personal insecurities preventing them from being intimate, Yang and Blake had taken that next step in their relationship. In the home they would make together…in the bed they'd, well, throw out eventually…together. Funnily enough, Blake seemed to have developed somewhat of a…fondness for the inflatable mattress, all of a sudden. She hated it with every fiber of her being, of course, but it had become the first place she and Yang had had sex. That was worth…something.

That said, Blake couldn't help the slight blush that crept up her cheeks when she realized the things she had done—rather daring and scandalous for her first time, actually. She was absolutely certain she wouldn't have been so forward had it been with anyone else. But it was Yang. And Yang was one of a kind. She made Blake happy, and Blake, in turn, only wanted to reciprocate. She had forced herself to overcome her nervousness—timidity, even—because she knew she wouldn't have been able to please Yang otherwise. And if the blonde's unwillingness to end the moment was any indication, it seemed as though Blake had achieved her goal.

Still…reliving those memories in her mind certainly rekindled a pleasant warmth in her chest, and Blake finally found the motivation to get out of bed. She quickly found her yukata and slipped it back over her bare frame before tying the front securely.

It was then that Blake noticed Yang's clothes were gone—the dress and jacket from the party just as well has the brawler's pajamas and…the rest, even that one torn garment. Blake's eyebrows rose in surprise before her expression became appreciative. While Yang generally wasn't messy or all that lazy, she did leave a few things lying around when there was something more exciting on her mind and wouldn't pick up after herself until she remembered or unless she was asked to beforehand. And because of Yang's spontaneity, these happened often enough that Blake found this present gesture thoughtful of the blonde. This was their place now, after all, just the two of them—not a shared dormitory between four girls. It felt more personal, more… Blake was just grateful. About all of it. She was happy.

More noise from somewhere down the hall reminded Blake that she had ears—two pairs of them, in fact—…and if the delicious smell of bacon was any indication, she had a nose, too. Yang had gone out of her way to cook breakfast as well?

Honestly, what _wasn't_ there to love about Yang Xiao Long?

Blake's delighted musings continued as she sauntered out of the room, hand absentmindedly brushing through her dark hair and untangling a few knots as she made her way to the bathroom to freshen up. She found that the slight ache in her hips and back were completely welcome now that she knew why it existed in the first place. It went without saying that she wasn't used to exercising her muscles in that very specific, very earnest manner…but she wasn't going to complain. _Far_ from it, even.

After going through her regular morning routine, she exited the bathroom and turned the corner, shaking out her hair as she bypassed the empty living room. Her cat ears flickered as she entered the kitchen, and her amber eyes took in the carton of eggs, the package of bacon on the counter, the coffee dripper and tea kettle going side by side, and Yang—

_OhmyGod._

"Yang!" Blake immediately hid her eyes. " _Put some clothes on_! _"_ She turned away, blushing a dark red. Why the _heck_ was Yang cooking bacon in the nude?

Okay, _that_ thought and lingering mental image were disturbing…and admittedly a little hot.

Blake heard Yang laugh—joyful and highly amused, clearly not an ounce ashamed of being naked while the windows still didn't have any curtains or blinds. Because she was Yang. And Yang was…was…

"This isn't funny!" Blake intervened, continuing to force herself to look anywhere but at Yang. The Faunus' mind had already been dancing on the edge of the gutter—and thanks to her girlfriend, it had fallen right in and collided with the dirty, hard…wet…floor. Blake's heart thudded harder. "Seriously, someone outside could _see_ you!"

Much to Blake's horror, Yang's laughing sounded closer, and it wasn't long before the bookworm could _feel_ the brawler's patent body heat a mere hairbreadth from touching her. _Worse_ , Yang's lips brushed against her human ear as she whispered, a mix of pure sultriness and amusement, "Someone _inside_ could see me, too, babe."

Blake's mouth went dry and she swallowed audibly, keeping her eyes shut tight. Yang's fresh lavender and lilac scent was a tantalizing giveaway to the fact that the blonde had showered, and now Blake was positively _dying_ to peek. "Yang, where are your clothes?"

"In the washer, of course! I mean, after everything we—"

"Never mind! Go put something new on!"

"…What do you think of a strap—"

" _Clothes_!"

Yang's warmth finally vanished as the young woman stepped away from Blake, her laughter following her into the bedroom down the hall.

Blake stood there for a moment, trying to calm her racing heart and forcefully yanking her mind out of the places it shouldn't be visiting. Unfortunately, it seemed that Yang had a penchant for travel agency. If the blonde had showered, it meant she had _deliberately_ decided to not wear anything afterwards with the sole intent of tempting Blake.

It seemed that Blake had created a monster by promising sex after breakfast.

…There were worse problems in life, all things considered.

Blake took a final deep breath in and then exhaled as she opened her eyes. She shook her head and then went over to verify that nothing was burning…other than her cheeks, of course. It looked like the bacon was just about ready to be taken out of the pan, anyway, so she proceeded to ready the plate with a paper towel and carefully took the pieces out one by one. Blake then poured Yang's cup of coffee—scalding black, just as she liked it—and filled another cup with boiling water, placing a bag of green tea into it afterwards. She set the cups on the table behind her before returning to the counter to pop some bread in the toaster. She then reached for the carton of eggs.

Somewhere behind her, Blake could hear Yang padding back up the hallway, but she ignored the approach. Instead, she took one of the eggs and cracked it, putting it in the pan before taking a fork and poking at the yolk to liquefy it.

"You like your eggs poached?" Yang asked, curious as she peeked over Blake's shoulder.

"Yes. Why? How do you like them?"

Yang unexpectedly snaked her hands around Blake's waist and murmured, "Well, I like them fertilized, TBH."

Blake froze, and Yang immediately stepped away, laughing. "You're disgusting, and I can't help you with that." Blake then turned to glare at her partner, seeing that Yang had finally slipped into actual clothes—a simple tank top and sweatpants. And although they were answers to Blake's prior concerns, they did nothing for her newly estranged mind, which seemed to have leased its own sewer-side apartment with a family of rats.

The Faunus turned back to the food, grumbling. By all means, she was more upset with herself than she was with Yang. The entire disagreement about this clothing and their breakfast stemmed from the fact that each girl, simultaneously, wanted more…intimacy after last night, yet Blake was reluctant to pursue that intimacy because… Well, because…

She shook her head. "That was a really bad joke, by the way."

Yang chuckled. "I know, I know. It's—"

"No. It wasn't the funny kind of bad. It was just weird."

" _Right_?"

"No. Please, Yang. You don't understand. Putting aside the implication that you want to eat a full-on baby chicken—and, really, that wasn't even an implication; it was an outright statement—the comment was just…out of place. Like, ethically. Morally? Yang, it was just weird. You either say 'scrambled' or 'over easy,' _and don't you_ —"

"Okay! I'd like my eggs _over easy_."

Blake could practically hear the wink.

"If ya know what I mean!"

Blake sighed a deep, heavy sigh. "I do. But later."

There was a moment of silence, and Blake realized that her lack of specificity had probably been a mistake. Yang began to speak, and Blake interrupted her.

"After breakfast."

"Okay. But I'll still have those eggs over easy."

Blake gripped her spatula tight. It was a loving grip, certainly, but darned if she wasn't frustrated. She couldn't tell if Yang _really_ wanted eggs over easy or if this was a continuation of her pun. _Whatever_ , Blake decided. If Yang wanted to goof around when the eggs were sitting out, she could deal with the wrong type of breakfast.

Blake cracked a few eggs over the sizzling bacon grease, escaping from her new frustrations in the sound of the yolks crackling. She closed her eyes for a moment just to finish her escape, and, upon opening them again, moved across the counter and checked the bottom cabinet there, finding the pan's accompanying lid and returning with it to cover the eggs. Of course, she had a moment of respite where she could say something back to Yang, who was sitting at the kitchen's central table already, though Blake did not dare to look for fear of the next joke she would make, but Blake decided to stay focused. The bacon was done, the toast had since popped out of the toaster, and the eggs were well on their way to being fully cooked. Blake had maybe two minutes left.

But as she watched the eggs through the see-through lid, she felt her grip on the spatula slacken. As bad as Yang's joke had been—and as implicatively horrifying as it would always be—Blake knew that this was just Yang's way of getting under her skin. They were jokes, and Yang surely was not ready to be… Well, they had a while to go before they ever talked about adoption or…things. But still. It was Yang being Yang, and it was Yang trying to keep the mood that had been born last night alive.

Darn it. Now Blake, herself, was making these puns.

Something clicked in her mind, and her eyes refocused on the pan before her. The eggs were done. In somewhat of a hurry but not wanting to show it—because Yang would not miss the opportunity to joke about it—Blake removed the lid, scooped the eggs out, placing a pair on each of her and Yang's respective plates, and turned off the stove. She set her spatula down beside the bacon and used her now-free hand to grab the pieces of toast, placing them soon on the plates beside their complementing eggs. Cleanup could be dealt with later.

Taking a preparatory breath, Blake picked up the two plates, placed one across her forearm, brought close to her chest, and grabbed the bacon plate, too. But as she turned, intent on not making a big deal about the minutes-long silence she and Yang had just undergone, she paused.

Yang was smirking at her. It was an evil smirk. A knowing smirk. A smirk that knew its owner had gotten under Blake's skin. And Yang still wanted her eggs fertilized. If Blake knew what she meant.

"So," Yang began, knowing _exactly_ what she was doing, "about you making me over easy..."

Blake powered through the absurdity to place the plates on the table, and, having done this, looked to Yang half-bewilderedly. "That doesn't even make sense."

" _Tell me about it_! That's what I felt last night. But in a good way. In a _way_ good way."

Taking a seat at the table and shaking her head, Blake tried to ignore the comment. But that didn't happen. Her mind went to last night again and, just the same, began to look forward to what would soon happen after breakfast—and she did _not_ mean cleanup. But she cleared her throat, scooting her chair up to the table. "Well, we should expect a call in the next few days—maybe even today—from the Hunters Guild. Considering our experience, I don't think we'll have to wait long for a mission."

Yang looked at her, not her food, and did so with that same smirk. Bluntly, she said, "You _really_ wanna bang right now, don't you?"

Blake choked, having not yet begun to eat. "Yang!" The girl didn't just need physical clothes—she needed moral clothes, too.

"What? You're the one awkwardly sidestepping every conversation I try to have with you about last night! And that's either because you didn't like it or because you're horny—which means you _really_ liked it."

"Yang, just…just eat."

"I'm trying! But you're not letting me!"

" _Your food_."

"Fine! But if I do, can we at least talk about last night? I'll do it without puns, I promise."

Taking a moment to actually cut into her food, Blake considered this. It was reasonable, and Blake _did_ feel as though she were being obstinate for no good reason, but…she still doubted something. "That…That wasn't a pun, was it?"

"No. If it was a pun, I would have said, 'I'll do _you_ without puns.' But I didn't. Sooo…"

Fighting fire with fire—bluntness with bluntness—Blake said, "You ripped my underwear last night."

Now it was Yang's turn to choke. But not in the way Blake wanted—instead with a laugh. "You bet I did! Like… _man_. I've _always_ wanted to try something like that."

"But on _my_ underwear?"

"Sure! Why not? It's not like I'm going to rip someone else's panties off."

"…What did you do with them?"

"Easy, kitten. I threw them away. I totally didn't send them off to get framed or anything— _especially_ not with a gold plaque that has your name on it and last night's date."

That was a joke. Probably. Most likely. …But still, Blake had to be careful with Yang. Sometimes, she could be a plain jerk with her jokes, but, other times, she had convictions. And those were dangerous. Wary, Blake tried, "…You don't have the money for that."

"But if I _did_ … Blake, it's the thought that counts."

The eggs tasted good. Blake focused on that. They were not symbolic. Her blush was unrelated to them. They also needed pepper. But Blake finally nodded. "Okay. Just start eating, and we'll go from there. And, please, don't make that sexual."

"Fine, fine, fine."

To the Faunus' half-surprise, Yang kept her word. Their attentions drew downwards to their own plates and, occasionally, the butter and jam that had been set between them. In that time, Yang had not said a word, and Blake was thankful. In fact, with this thankfulness came a sort of forgiveness, though it could not be said that there was anything to forgive at all. Blake could see that Yang was merely happy and enjoyed the teases she could freely give. So, Blake relaxed and continued to eat the unfertilized eggs that needed more pepper.

And, before she knew it, one of the eggs and a few strips of bacon and a good three-quarters of her toast had disappeared, but she was still hungry. Yet this did not dissuade her from fulfilling her end of the bargain, which Yang was equally fulfilling. "Yang," she began, earning a glance from the blonde, who was very busy with her food, "I want to say that I did enjoy last night. I…I don't really know what else you want me to say, but… Thank you."

With mouth half-full of food, Yang managed, "Blakey, it's okay." She swallowed. "All I wanted to know is if you enjoyed yourself. If you don't have anything else to say, you don't have to say anything."

Blake set her utensils down. She was trying to be honest and did want to discuss the matter more—and, really, she _did_ enjoy herself last night. Immensely, even. But it was still…sex. "No, it's just that…" She took a composing breath. "I'd never really wanted to think about us…making love—or having sex. I mean, I did at _one_ point, but as soon as I realized something could actually happen between us, I…kind of let those thoughts go. They felt…rude, like they were one-sided and, therefore, not respectful of you."

"Well, if there's one thing I can say about you, it's that you're respectful of me. And it's never not cute. But, Blake, we've gone there—you're allowed to enjoy sex. And you're allowed to talk about sex with me; otherwise, it's just gonna be a guessing game every night, where we try to figure out how to get each other off. You aren't disrespecting me by liking me."

Blake had something to say—something appreciative and calmer, despite her blush—but all she could manage to do was stop, reflect, and say with no small amount of confusion, "…Every night?"

"Well, that part's negotiable. But the point is that I care about you, and I want to hear what your thoughts are about last night—what worked, what didn't. Heck, I'd _like_ to know how you _felt_ ¸ but I can wait until you're comfortable enough to tell me that."

Why was Blake blushing? Part of it had to do with Yang's frankness and lack of shame in discussing this difficult matter, so at least _that much_ was reasonable. But Yang had been there last night, too—had participated, even—so acting like it was all some secret was…prudish, honestly. "I…Yang, last night was great. And…And, yes, I would have liked to have gone to sleep earlier, but, at the same time, I'm glad we didn't. It was fantastic. _You_ were fantastic."

"That's good to hear." Smiling, perhaps smugly again, Yang returned to her food. Between bites, she continued. "But still, I wanna know what else you thought about it. Like, you don't have to go into _too_ much detail, but, like, was it what you thought it would be? Do you have any regrets or anything? Or, like, was it all just 'fantastic?'"

The questions were asked with a relatively straight face. And Blake did have answers to them, even though the wording was still tripping over itself in her head, but still…

She sighed, trying to find the same routine Yang found in eating while intermittently talking, focusing on the unpeppered eggs as she began. "No, um… The only thing I would criticize is the time we finally got to sleep, but…otherwise, the entire experience was…" Blake struggled with her words, not wanting to just keep saying the same thing. "I'm glad to have spent last night with you. I'm…honestly at a loss. It both was and wasn't what I thought it would be, and, to tell you the truth, I loved everything about that."

"How so?"

"Because you were there to guide me through it. I'm still nervous, and I think it will be a while until I'm _not_ nervous about it, but last night felt right, even though I didn't know what I was doing."

It was then that Yang paused her eating, glancing up from her plate to give her partner a disbelieving look that asked, " _Really_?" before returning to her food. Blake could not say she was unfazed.

"Yang, you helped me feel like I knew what I was doing. Your…moans…and your…movements…certainly had a lot to do with that."

The look in Yang's eyes was suddenly firm. Her gaze bore down upon her toast with a look of intensity and internal struggle that Blake had rarely seen on her. She was fighting over whether or not to joke. It only made Blake want to die. More.

"Well," Yang eventually managed, drawled and strained and painfully diplomatic, "I'm happy to help."

"Yang, what are you thinking?"

The blonde looked to her, blinked a few times, then smiled radiantly—as though nothing had happened. "Nothing! Why do you ask?"

"…Right. Anyway, I'm trying to tell you that I'm thankful for your help, for what it's worth."

Why was Blake fighting it? She had fought this feeling and urge last night, too, even when Yang said it was fine. And last night's intimacy had proven that these feelings were, in fact, fine and that Blake was fine with them being fine—she had…expressed herself…vocally…about how fine last night's feelings were. So, why, when she had already crossed that nervous bridge before, did she stand on its edge and worry that she would fall?

"It was amazing. I don't think I could describe it any other way." She saw Yang's smile again, and while she doubted that it had changed once in the time since she had finished making breakfast, the smile seemed appreciative now—not just happy and teasing; like Blake's words had meant something. And knowing that Yang's happiness came with reciprocal love, Blake allowed herself a small smile, too—happily, appreciatively, and if only for a short while until her mind moved to other topics. "As for regrets…well, I know I pushed you away when you tried to do… _that_ …and I'm sorry. I know you wanted to, and I think I'd like to as well, someday, but…right now, it's just…"

"Hey, don't worry about it." Yang had only her toast left and was now waving it around with her gesticulations. "We all have our limits, and what's important is that you enjoyed yourself. And that you aren't going to leave me because the sex was _too_ good."

Blake had to admit a laugh at this. It was partially nervous, and it was another crude joke, but, at the end of the day, she loved Yang for her humor.

"But we'll get you there eventually. Really, my only regret from last night was that I didn't get to help you out _more_. Like, I had fun. I had _a lot_ of fun. And it should be pretty obvious why I want to have more fun after breakfast. But my goal isn't my fun; it's yours. I'm not gonna get into the details of why, but being with you last night was…fulfilling, but in a way that I've never felt before."

For some reason, be it individual intent or just a correctness of the moment, the two girls eyes found each other's and lingered there. Quietly, Yang assured, "I don't want to rush you, Blake. I make all these jokes and say all these things because I love seeing you react to them, not because I'm as incorrigible as you say I am. I want sex just like you do, but I'm not in any hurry. I just want to make you happy. That's all."

Yang was sweet, Blake would give her that much. The explanation did not make the Faunus feel any less awkward, to be quite honest, but it was reassuring. The jokes, as crude as they were, did not have any hidden meaning behind them. And as for Yang's…desires…well, Blake did pity her in a way—that she would sacrifice her own pleasure to please Blake was, in truth, inconceivable. But that was what Yang was essentially saying, and Blake had to admit that it was sweet.

Blake's smile widened, her blush not fading yet, and she said, "You do make me happy. And I want to do the same for you. If you'll let me. I mean, you liked last night, too, right? I didn't…do anything wrong, did I?"

With a final bite of toast, Yang's breakfast was gone, and with her breakfast's end began a timer counting down until this conversation moved to the bedroom. But, in the meantime, she shook her head. "Blake, Blake, Blake. Oh, Blakey. No matter how many times I tell you how amazing you were last night, you're never gonna believe me. Like, I think I've told you about five times now, and you're still asking me. Blake, you rocked my world. That was the best sex I've ever had, and you are incredible. So, don't worry about that. You're already good, and you're gonna get better. All it takes is practice."

Blake paused for a moment, assimilating this. Her mind had slowed down at one of Yang's comments. She knew Yang had been in relationships before and that Blake hadn't been her girlfriend's first experience with sex, but… "Is that true?"

The blonde gave Blake a bemused but visibly interested look. "Is what true?"

"That last night was the best sex you've ever had?" Honestly, Blake couldn't fathom how that could be, considering how that had been her first time and how she was hardly knowledgeable enough to be entirely satisfying.

"Yeah, it was!" came Yang's immediate and genuine answer. She hadn't even needed to think about it. However, because Blake continued to look at her uncertainly, Yang seemed to understand and began to elaborate. "Okay, so, like, I've been with a few guys before," she started, and, thoughtful, drummed her fingers on the table. "It's not the same at all. I dunno. I wasn't ever really pressured, but sex with them happened a lot faster than it did with you—plus, they came a lot faster than you did, too." Yang quirked her eyebrows in amusement, clearly expecting to get a reaction out of Blake.

…Which Blake indeed provided, a blush graciously burning her cheeks. "I don't… But you said—"

Yang laughed. "I was only joking, kitten. Considering how worked up you were by the time we got started on you, I'd say you lasted _way_ longer than them."

Blake looked down. "Oh. Um, okay. But still…"

The golden girl reached over and took the Faunus' hand. She lowered her voice, lilac irises gentle and reassuring. "The waiting game made last night so much more special, Blake. I love you with _all my heart_ , and none of my past experiences can even compare to the emotional fulfillment I felt with you. I felt close to you— _feel_ close to you—like I haven't ever been with anyone else."

Blake had no idea how to respond. She stared at her girlfriend, touched and flustered by this candidness, but failed to speak.

Yang beamed. "You made me really, really happy. And if you're still not convinced, I found it incredible that you went all out to make sure that I was okay and then not even expect to have _your_ turn. It didn't really work like that with my exes. It was kinda…a little more all about them. So, yeah, last night was _definitely_ the best sex I've ever had."

This did not help the blush any, but it was reassuring. For once, these blunt words were helpful instead of uncomfortable, and Blake found something concrete to hold onto. She did well, or at least adequately, and Yang was satisfied. That was what mattered. And, really, that was what Blake was worried about. Knowing that Yang was satisfied and purportedly only wanted to make Blake happy was, in a way, a comfort that let the Faunus move forward. It was a comfort that had also helped her take the initiative last night, "rock Yang's world," "rev her engines," and all the other horrible metaphors the blonde used.

Just knowing that Blake wasn't bad—not even that she was good—was motivation enough to look Yang in the eye, without a blush, and relax her smile. And knowing that last night had been fantastic for Yang, too, allowed her say, "I love you, too, Yang. Thank you."

Much more at ease now, Blake gratefully squeezed Yang's hand before detaching and standing with her plate, heading back towards the sink at the counter. She gathered the other dirty dishes on the stove and turned on the faucet after putting the stopper in the drain, expecting Yang to bring her own plate over and help dry the dishes once they had been washed. It took a few moments longer than Blake assumed—long enough that she had time to clean the two pans they had cooked breakfast in—but, eventually, she heard the second chair push away from the table.

Yang padded closer and put her plate into the soapy water from behind Blake, but she didn't move away. Instead, and much to Blake's surprise, hands were placed firmly on her hips and forced her to turn around. Golden gaze wide and confused, hands still foamy and dripping with water, Blake didn't even have time to properly react to Yang pressing their bodies together and kissing her with quite a bit of intent. The Faunus' initial instinct was to put her hands on Yang's biceps in an attempt to make some distance between them, but Yang insisted, leaning into Blake so that the bookworm was snugly caught between the counter and her girlfriend's torso. One of Blake's hands went back to the counter and gripped it tightly. She was still bewildered at this sudden…well, this sudden _Yang_ , but the pressure on her hips rekindled the tiny flame from yesterday and, befuddled or not, Blake almost melted into the kiss.

And no sooner had she stopped fighting the brawler that Yang pulled away, just far enough that Blake had to open her eyes and realize that there wouldn't be another kiss immediately after. Gold met lilac in a mix of puzzlement and barely concealed desire. "What are you doing?" Blake breathed, doing her very best to hide how effected she was.

"I'm doing…" Yang leaned in closer again, and husked into Blake's ear, " _you_." She followed this by kissing Blake's throat and murmuring, familiar and intoxicating hot breath washing over her skin, "I need you, Blake. After last night…"

Blake shuddered. Yang was using that tone of voice again. The illegal one. The one that added a _lot_ of fuel to the fire. And now Blake was on edge, left hanging, wanting Yang to finish her sentence— _needing_ Yang to finish that sentence.

The blonde's thumbs pressed into Blake's hips and her mouth was at the lithe young woman's ear again when she finally admitted, slow and criminal, "I'm addicted to you. Everything about you. The way you moan. The way you move. The way you make me come."

Goosebumps trailed down Blake's spine. Everything in her mind tried to tell her to finish cleaning up first. But another part of her mind—and Yang, too—told her to give in. But Yang pulled away just then.

Her eyes were smoldering, yes, and her grip still remained, but there was a laugh somewhere behind her expression, in her smile. She broke character, shaking her head at herself. "Please tell me this is working. Because, TBH, I feel _really_ self-conscious here, and if you'd rather me do something else—"

Blake wondered how Yang could ever do any wrong. She was so confident, and she had such an effect on Blake… How could she ever doubt that her actions and words were alluring—that _anything_ she did was alluring?

"Yang," Blake interrupted her, swallowing with difficulty. "Bed."

And with that, the dishes were utterly forgotten. Yang's voice had this ability to affect Blake deeply—deeper than the Faunus ever thought a voice could get to her. And now, with such a forcibly suggestive, _sexual_ purpose set behind them, those words on Yang's lips made Blake weak. Her heartbeat was accelerating, she was gripping the counter so tightly it hurt, and, for the life of her, Blake realized she was internally begging for Yang to take her. _Now_.

"No arguments here!" came the enthusiastic response. Yang pulled Blake with her, abandoning the unfinished dishes in the sink, Blake slamming the faucet off as they left. It quickly became evident to Blake, though, that she had developed an intolerance for any kind of space between them in the last few moments. Fortunately, Yang seemed to share similar issues because halfway out of the kitchen, she unexpectedly grabbed Blake again and kissed her roughly, pushing the raven-haired girl until her back hit the wall. Yang's hips pressed into Blake, strong and shameless, while calloused hands found her partner's thighs and ventured upwards, making their way under her yukata.

Blake's own hands were at Yang's waist, and the kiss was rapidly making her breathless, but there was no way she was going to let Yang get _that_ daring right there in the kitchen. It was her turn to push against the brawler, and Yang went along with it, but both were too preoccupied with making out, so, this time, it was the blonde's back that hit the wall as Blake led her into the hallway.

Yang made a bit of an appreciative sound, never breaking the kiss and holding Blake as close as possible. The Faunus had kept her hands at Yang's waist, and now her fingers wandered under her girlfriend's tank top, once again admiring the defined muscles that made up Yang's abdomen. Blake's palms traveled by the blonde's navel, fingers following the crease of Yang's obliques slowly to better marvel at them. The tank top rode up along with her caresses, and her partner's kiss became more passionate. In fact, her grip tightened and she made an attempt at continuing their progression to the bedroom but only managed to push Blake into yet another wall—only further down the hallway now.

Yang didn't let that discourage her, though, it seemed. Keeping Blake's mouth well occupied, one hand holding the raven-haired girl's jaw and fingers beginning to run through her hair, Yang used her other hand to pull the ties of the yukata loose until the front opened through the middle. Blake was immediately blushing, heart hammering, reminded that she wasn't wearing anything else _but_ the yukata and that Yang was about to have a very distracting advantage if she involved herself even just a little bit more. And they weren't in the bedroom yet, and Blake found that they were still too close to curtain-less windows for comfort.

She didn't even know where they were in the hallway anymore.

Nervousness actually being the one to embolden her this time, Blake pushed Yang back again. And to stop the golden girl from letting her hands explore, nervousness built up the courage to lift Yang's tank top up and over her head to remove it. At the same time, as the kiss was interrupted, it turned out they still hadn't reached the bedroom yet because Yang's back collided with another wall. There was a pause, Blake and Yang re-orientating themselves and finding out that the entrance to their bedroom was right behind them.

Breathing harshly, Yang was the first to react, surprising Blake with a firm kiss to her collarbone, hands slipping the yukata off and gliding down Blake's back. Yang dipped down, too, and before Blake even knew what was happening, she found herself lifted off the floor and hugged against her partner's torso. Instinctively, she held on to Yang's shoulders as the kiss resumed, feverish and hungry, but the brawler was solid and gave no indication of having any trouble with this new position. The yukata and the tank top were left in the hallway as the couple finally entered the bedroom and made their way towards the mattress.

And it occurred to Blake that they actually _were_ in the bedroom now and that things were about to get serious. The warmth that had pooled in her lower belly felt like it was everywhere now, burning at her fingertips, and her need for Yang was increasing by the moment. It was the second time that they were going to have sex, and it was the second time that Blake had no idea why she so foolishly hesitated when she knew exactly what—or rather, _who—_ she wanted. And God help her how much she desperately _wanted_ it.

Blake's thoughts were interrupted when her balance shifted, her back soon hitting the mattress with a cough of air as Yang dropped down on top of her. The Faunus found herself staring up into shining lilac orbs, anticipation clenching her gut while her heart continued to race. Yang grinned at her, somehow equally teasing and reassuring, and then leaned down to close the space between their lips. Blake gratefully accepted, deepening the embrace and trying to convey all of her feelings into it. One of Yang's hands found the bookworm's shoulder and, slowly, glided her fingers along Blake's arm, prompting the reserved girl to raise it until both of their hands were above her head.

Blake wasn't entirely sure what Yang was doing, but she trusted her, and it wasn't uncomfortable, so she went with it. Yang repeated this with the other arm and then kept both of Blake's hands pinned above her raven-haired head with a hand of her own. The kiss broke off, and Yang moved her lips to Blake's jaw, then to her neck, and Blake shuddered again as Yang's breath tickled her skin.

"You're mine right now, Blake," she whispered, and electricity coursed up Blake's abdomen, making her shut her eyes tight and involuntarily adjust her hips. Yang's voice was so incredibly sensual, and she wasn't done yet. "I want to hear you say it. I want to hear you moan. I want to hear you _say my name_."

Blake almost did that right then and there. The level of heat and anticipation that those words and Yang's voice generated within the Faunus almost made her feel like she was losing her mind with lust, and the need to moan was becoming increasingly difficult to resist. Yang didn't help with that, kisses and torrid exhales descending over Blake's upper chest, and the reserved girl knew there wouldn't be a shirt that needed removing to stop Yang this time.

Blake found herself clenching her fists as Yang's mouth continued its loving kisses up the slope of her left breast, and it became clear she was done for. Hoping to be quiet throughout all of this was going to be an impossible endeavor. Yang was bent on pleasuring Blake, and if the current state of affairs was any indication, she seemed to know _exactly_ which buttons to press. Somehow. Blake would have to ask her about that…later, though.

There were presently more enjoyable thoughts on her mind, most of which were focused on how Yang had decided to have her tongue participate with slow flicks of Blake's nipple. She hadn't assumed it would have felt so good—although, she probably should have, if Yang's reactions yesterday to this wet treatment were telling of anything—but the repetitive motion of the blonde's soft tongue was driving Blake up the wall—the metaphorical one this time. And the bookworm was growing restless—she couldn't move her arms, only clench her fists, and so it was her legs that moved instead, rubbing against each other slightly beneath Yang as Blake turned her head and muffled a moan into her shoulder.

"C'mon, Blake…" Yang murmured, "Let me hear just how much you _need_ me." Blake's head went back as she gritted her teeth. It was one thing to allow herself to moan, but to actually say something while moaning…? The ministrations continued briefly, but then they paused and Yang blew softly on the wet bud. The sudden sensation of coolness had Blake adjusting her hips even more noticeably than before, wondering what she had done to deserve this torture. Her heart seemed to want to burst out of her chest again, breaths labored and thoughts becoming incoherent.

Yang moved over to Blake's right breast, unwavering but sensual in her gentleness. "Do it, Blake. Show me how much you _love_ me."

Blake was struggling. Really, she was. And at this rate, she began wondering if Yang's voice alone would manage to get her off—it was almost like Yang knew it had that powerful of an effect on her. Still, Yang kept on and brought her free hand up to caress and tease Blake's left breast, and at the same time, her tongue started the maddening flicks over Blake's right nipple.

The struggling increased, this time in an attempt to actually free her hands, but Yang's single grip on both of Blake's wrists was made of iron. And Yang was still licking and fingering the bookworm's chest, and Blake was trying to find some kind of release through unwanted thrusts of her hips, but there was _nothing_ to provide her with such relief. Her breathing came out harsh, her frustration was reaching new heights, and still there was _pleasure_ …and Blake couldn't stand holding it all in anymore. "… _Yaaang_. Ugh. Please. I _need_ you. I'll do anything you want... Just...please..."

"Mm, please _what_ , kitten?" Yang paused from the tongue flicks and looked up at Blake, but her hand continued fondling Blake's chest slowly and there was a delighted but evil smirk on her face.

"Please, Ya... _Yang…_ Take me. Love me. _Please_. I need you now. It's...unbearable…"

And Yang beamed, bright like the sun, before releasing Blake's wrists and saying lightly, "Sure thing. But say my name. Every time you come."

_Every time I_ …?

_Come for me, Blake_.

Blake trembled and covered her face with her hands. It really was too much. And it _was_ going to happen. She was going to come—soon, if the tension in her body and the way it shivered was any indication—and if Yang kept her attentions up…

But then Yang's hand left her partner's breast, making the Faunus react again—negatively or positively, it was all about the same at this point—and took that hand down the bookworm's side. It left trails of goosebumps as it raced along Blake's skin, and, somehow, where she hoped it would go and where it actually did go were one in the same. She choked a moan and stiffened again as that hand moved between their bodies, not bothering with pretext as it travelled across then pressed against Blake's clit. This, like last night, earned an overeager hip thrust from the Faunus.

" _Say it_."

Blake would, no doubt.

" _C'mon, kitten_ …"

It was bound to happen—Yang was rubbing in tandem with Blake, sending shocks of electricity through her muscles, but still Blake grit her teeth and shut her eyes tight.

"Moan for me, Blakey. Let me hear you come."

Yang's fingers and voice weren't going to give Blake a choice, working her to a feverish, impossibly pleasurable pitch as they were. Like last night, Blake would be too quick to climax for her own liking, but, just the same, she was too far gone to care. _Yes, yes, yes…_ She rocked against Yang's hands, brought a hand to Yang's hair, and began—quietly, in the back of her throat—to groan lowly. Lightning struck all the way to her heart, her muscles clenching. She was ready. She wanted to. _So badly_. Yang.

And just as she was about to—just as her breaths became shallow and her motor functions became inoperable—she looked to Yang, who, from Blake's nipple, looked back up at her and began to—

Yang's scroll rang, and both girls came to an abrupt halt.

Did they even wake up? This…this couldn't be real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *CHAPTER SUCCESSFULLY ENDED...COMMENCE OPERATION AUTHOR'S NOTE*
> 
> THIS IS CLIFFHNGER #2, MEIN LIEBLINGSFARBEN, AND BOY OH BOY IS BLAKE MADDD. WILL YANG LIVE? WILL THIS STORY CONTINUE TO BE ABOUT BUMBLEBEE? WILL YANG EVER GET HER EGGS FERTILIZED? FIND OUT IN THE STUNNING CONTINUENCE IN CHAPTER FOUR. I'M NOT GONNA SPOIL NOTHING.
> 
> TOODLE-OO, MES AMIES.


	4. Cloud Nine

The dumbest, screechiest, most hateable pop song blared from the tinny speakers of Yang's scroll. And with it came silence. A half-confused, half-furious silence.

"I…I need to take this."

Shooting the blonde a glare, Blake kept Yang right where she was. She thought about telling Yang to finish what she started. She thought about denying the call, herself, and bringing her girlfriend in for a kiss. And she was certainly frustrated enough to do these things, but…

She huffed, letting better reason win out. "Fine."

All semblance of jocosity and lust had fallen away from Yang's expression. She seemed…regretful. But also serious. "I'm sorry. But I've _really_ gotta take this. It's Ruby."

Blake tried to center herself, huffing again in exasperation and running a hand through her hair while she could. For the briefest of moments, Blake had wanted to kill her leader. Murder her. Savagely and in her sleep. But those thoughts, like Yang's expression, also fell away to better reason. Whatever, Blake thought. Yang could take an emergency call. That was more pressing than… Blake didn't want to think about pressing things right now.

She had just come. Just a moment ago. And it meant nothing— _nothing_ , it had been ruined so badly and cut _so_ short. Her fists were clenched, both in petty annoyance and fading pleasure, and her legs had clamped down on Yang's hand. She had gone through the sensory checklist of an orgasm, but, with the ringing of that scroll and Yang suddenly stopping all stimulating motions, Blake had been unable to enjoy the relief—in fact, it was almost nonexistent. Scratch that, Blake's frustration had now spiked, feeling incredibly cheated and unsatisfied.

But Yang rolled off her partner so she could pitifully reach for her scroll, which rested an arm-length and a half from the bed, and Blake was forced to just let it go again, despite the awfulness of the situation. As soon as Yang picked up the phone, she returned to the Faunus and the positions they had been in before. On all fours above Blake, Yang pecked her girlfriend on the lips before answering.

"Hello?"

The warmth of her word's breath washed across Blake's face, Yang was so close. They were practically kissing still, and Yang's bedroom eyes had returned, but so did Blake's awkwardness. And for good reason. The blonde was on the phone, not an inch away. Yet those eyes promised _more_ —something that Blake could not help but slightly resent, considering just how much she needed _more_ coupled with the uncertainty of Yang actually providing that any time soon.

"Hey, Yang!" With ears still unbound, Blake could hear the high-pitched voice of Ruby—her leader and Yang's innocent younger sister—as clear as day. All the more reason to feel awkward. "I tried to call you earlier, but I guess you weren't up. How're you feeling?"

"Great, Ruby. I'm feeling lovely. Got in a late workout last night, and now I'm feeling pumped."

"Oh, cool! You guys have a gym at your apartment? Weiss doesn't like workout stuff here. She says the sweat gets everywhere."

"Well, she's right about that."

Blake felt doubly uncomfortable now. Between Ruby and the quickly returning need to be satisfied to completion, this was _death_.

"So, what are you guys up to today? I kinda wanted to call a team meeting later 'cause we got a new mission. But we can work that around your schedule!"

"Well, that's just dandy. But Blake and I were actually about to do something. We're gonna eat out. We thought, 'Why should we celebrate graduation for just one day?' and came up with the idea of treating ourselves."

"Ooh! Can I come?"

Blake and, surprisingly, Yang simultaneously winced. Yang mouthed the words, "Oh my God," before putting on a bright smile, as though Ruby could see it.

"Sorry, Rubes. Only me and Blake are coming."

"Oh. Well, maybe next time?"

Yang paused a moment, thought, then, with a veritable lightbulb above her head, she said too quickly for Ruby to possibly hear, "Maybe when you're older."

"Wait, wha—"

"Call you back later, Ruby. We'll set up that meeting in a jiff." She hung up her scroll, tossed it, and let it slide across the floor.

Blake, still pained, looked up at her girlfriend. "Did you just imply that you'd have sex with your sister when she's older?"

Yang's expression flattened. "Look. Drop that subject or you're not getting off."

"Consider it dropped."

"Cool! So, I'm guessing the mood—"

But Blake wasn't going to let Yang finish. The intensity of the mood was gone, yes, and there definitely was some remaining frustration, but more than anything, Blake still ached for Yang. Ruby or a phone call couldn't ruin that. She leaned up and closed the space between their lips, arms snaking around Yang's back and neck, and pulled the brawler down so she could reverse their positions. The mattress coughed again and the PVC creaked while Blake's knee ended up between Yang's legs, and even though it wasn't purposeful, she was quick to take advantage of that and fit it snugly up the blonde's thighs. In response to that, those strong thighs tightened around Blake's knee and Yang audibly exhaled through her nose as she deepened the kiss. One of her hands traveled down the bookworm's abdomen, making it clear that Yang wasn't intimidated by the change in roles and that she still had every intention of getting Blake off.

Involuntarily, Blake's hips bucked towards the hand, hoping to get it to its destination sooner, and it was right about then that a small _pop_ was heard, followed by the muffled sound of rushing air.

The kiss broke off, and both girls paused again, breathing hard and hearts pounding.

Blake looked towards the noise. Calmly, she said, "Yang, please tell me that isn't the mattress deflating."

Yang glanced down. "…I think the mattress is deflating. I feel the floor."

And with that, Blake lost her patience. Frustrated beyond measure and giving up on the idea of sex after breakfast, she cursed and pushed away from Yang, up on her feet before the blonde could stop her. She had always hated that stupid mattress with a passion.

"Hey, wait! We can fix this, Blake."

But Blake was already heading for the closet to get a fresh pair of clothes. A shower—preferably a cold one—would help make this go away. "I told you that _thing_ was a terrible purchase," she seethed, thoroughly put-off by the whole situation.

"Okay, no." Yang sounded pretty stern all of a sudden. Before Blake could reach for the closet's handle, Yang had stood, too, and caught the Faunus from behind. She forced Blake to face her. "Listen up. You are _not_ going to be grouchy all day because you didn't get satisfying sex."

Against her wishes, this made Blake's face heat up in embarrassment, which was only furthered when it dawned on her that she was standing naked in front of Yang in broad daylight… Although, Yang was half-naked, too, and they were standing close enough to each other that their fields of vision stopped at their upper chests. Blake closed her eyes, trying to calm herself. "I'm not grouchy."

"Blake. It's a mattress. We can replace it. You're biting my head off over something small." Yang paused. "I mean, you're real cute, though. But still. Not happening."

"But it's not just the mattress. It's the mattress and the call and you moving away to take the call and—"

"It's not even about the mood, is it? I ruined your orgasm."

"…I wouldn't—I—" Blake swallowed, steeling herself. "Yes."

The blonde smirked. "You're adorable when you're grumpy."

"Shut up."

"Right." Yang took Blake by the waist and guided her up to the windowsill to their right until their bodies were firmly pressed against each other. Blake tried to resist, blushing all the way up to the tips of her cat ears, but Yang only exercised more of her strength and leaned into Blake, husking against her throat, "As adorable as you are, I'm feeling mighty apologetic, so, as my way of saying sorry, I'm gonna make you come _all_ morning."

For the life of her, Blake could not comprehend how someone's voice could send her reeling towards cloud nine so easily. She'd assumed the mood was ruined, but Yang had turned her right back on, so Blake figured that resistance was futile. Her hands, instead of pushing against Yang's arms, hooked around the lilac-eyed girl's neck and drew her closer, golden eyes closing so Blake could better enjoy the feeling of Yang's lips on her collarbone. The blonde's hands explored the sides of Blake's body, leaving trails of goose-bumps in their wake. Then Blake felt Yang's right hand go behind her, moving in between her lower back and the blinds of the window, while her left continued downward. She hissed as Yang's fingers found their mark.

"Now, where were we?" Yang's breaths were searing, and she had to have known that. The hand behind the Faunus somehow gripped her, stabilizing Blake while the hand before her gave all the pressure and friction she could hope for. "Oh, right. We were right…about…here."

Blake jolted. Electricity coursed through her veins as Yang's finger entered her slowly, despite feeling so sudden. And though Blake did jump a bit at first, the hand on her back kept her still, letting her release a quiet groan of appreciation. On instinct, too, she held Yang closer with all the strength she could, bringing the blonde's toned body flush against her own. " _Ya-ang_ ," Blake gasped, loving everything from the reacting passion behind Yang's kiss, the unmissable presence of Yang's body, and the firm pressure of Yang's hand and finger. Yang.

"There you are," whispered Yang in reply, smiling against Blake's neck. "Now, can you say it louder?"

No. Yes. Maybe. If Yang's fingers continued their motions, now gently rocking into and out of the Faunus, then sure. Definitely. But Blake was already gasping with abandon and knew how incredibly close she had been before. And with Yang's fingers and palm working her up to a fever pitch and those fervent kisses sucking at her collarbone, Blake was nearing her end. Worst of all, Yang knew it, too. Somehow, her ministrations grew alongside Blake's climax.

" _Yaaang_ ," she quietly moaned, clutching at the girl's hair.

" _Louder_ , Blakey," Yang implored, passionate but quickly losing her breath.

A low growl escaped Blake's throat. Her legs had come to wrap around Yang's waist, serving as yet another means to clutch the blonde as she buried her nose into that thick mane of hair. The hand at her back was soothingly still while the tongue and fingers at her front were moving at a gradually quickening pace. Yang's thumb circled her partner's clit while that single finger thrusted into the Faunus before dragging out. But then Blake jolted again. As quick as it was, a second finger came carefully into her, and her groans grew to a new level of volume.

" _Yang!_ " she cried, hugging the girl as much as she could, instinctively kissing the blonde head while thrusting her hips sporadically against the intruding fingers.

Yang drew in a slow breath. "Thaaat's it," she managed. She then pulled away from her girlfriend's chest, breaths more ragged than Blake had noticed before. She was panting, eyes half-lidded, and her forehead came to rest against the equally panting Faunus'. "You know something?" she asked between a particularly hard thrust of her fingers, tone surprisingly candid. "I think this is getting me off, too. Just being so close to you…feeling what you're feeling…"

"I…" Blake managed, trying to help, "I love having you near…"

The arm around Blake's back hugged her closer, and Yang exhaled slowly against Blake's collarbone. "What else do you like?" she whispered.

As she closed her eyes, the only thing Blake could respond with at first was a strained, " _You._ Yang… All of… I love you." But then she reached out to kiss the blonde, bringing their lips together with a hand on the back of Yang's head. It was short yet deep, and as they pulled away, Blake, with no shame left to care for, admitted breathily, "I'm about to come, Yang. Don't stop. _Please_."

"I won't, Blake. God…you're so amazing."

Between that voice and the fingers rocking into her, Blake didn't really have any choice in the matter. Her breaths came in puffs until Yang caught them with another kiss. Her eyes screwed shut. And her hips thrust in tandem with Yang's own, focused on the hand between them. And then the growl in the back of Blake's throat caught and her entire body tensed.

She sighed explosively, releasing the small breath she had so desperately held. Her body jolted again, back arching, hips pressing forward, arms pulling Yang with her—hands cradling her girlfriend's head, not willing to let her go—and kiss slackening out of an inability to do much of anything. Her mind and body were alight with the sensations of Yang, and as her forehead feebly pressed against her partner's, she released a low, ragged, but altogether relieved whimper of " _Yaaang_ …"

The girl in question exhaled, lips finding Blake's throat again as she breathed with that irresistibly sexual tone, "Oh, yeah, Blake…" And as she did so, she languidly peppered the Faunus with small, slow kisses, each one as burning as the last. "I love the way you sound when you come."

Blake shuddered again—whether this was from climaxing or from Yang making her generally weak, she didn't know. Nor did she care. "Oh…" she sighed, voice relaxing, "Yang…"

"Mm," hummed the brawler. "I can see why you were so worked up last night. Never really paid much attention to how someone's name can affect them." She kissed Blake's jaw, working up to her ear. "I know it worked me up."

Although Blake's voice was not nearly as tense as it was before, her body definitely was, still undergoing the blissful shocks of her orgasm. But she could speak, however roughly. "Well," she husked, trying to be smooth, "then I guess you'll just have to fix that up…wait. We. I. Me. Uh…"

Yang laughed against Blake's ear, making every part of the Faunus shake with her chuckle, even the parts that Yang was still…connected to. This caused Blake to sigh again, both out of heightened pleasure and of plain disappointment. "I give up…"

"Oh, don't say that." Yang pulled away, a smile still on her countenance as she leaned in and pecked Blake on the lips. "But, if you don't mind, I'm gonna need your legs to give up for just a minute. Pretty please?"

Dumbly, Blake nodded, unclasping her legs from around Yang's waist and setting her feet on the ground. But Yang seemed to have chosen very appropriate words for how Blake felt. Her legs were wobbly, and even though she was somewhat sitting on the windowsill, she felt as though she would topple over at any second. This was especially the case with Yang still inside her.

The feeling did not last for long, though—unfortunately. With a rise in the corner of her smile, Yang withdrew from her partner but only closed the space between them as her hand was pulled away. Blake felt the rough fabric of Yang's sweatpants and saw the fingers that she and Yang now examined. The blonde hummed as she made a point of appraising the fluid that ran down her hand.

"You know, I tried this stuff last night. And, trust me, I understand your fascination with this sort of thing. But, Blake, I've gotta say…I kinda wanna know what got you so hooked on me last night."

The hand on the small of Blake's back moved around to grasp her hip.

"So, sit tight. I'll be with you again in a moment."

Still completely and utterly out of it and not knowing how language worked, Blake could only mumble an incoherent "Huh?" before Yang winked and began to move downwards.

The kisses on the way down were light, fast, and eager to reach their destination. They did not take their time on their travels through the valley of Blake's breasts or across her navel, and Blake barely had time to open her eyes—in either surprise or worry, she couldn't decide. What mattered was that _this_ was happening, and no matter how absolutely weird Yang's descent was, Blake knew she had no time to stop her. Her mouth wasn't working and Yang was moving fast. All she could manage was another soft, "Yang…"

"Don't worry, kitten," husked Yang, peppering kiss after kiss down the front of Blake's pelvis until, at the moment a small part of Blake _needed_ the next kiss, Yang pulled away. Half-lidded golden met the most beautiful tint of lilac, and Yang, with that _voice_ , promised, "I'm gonna take good care of you."

This, to Blake's chagrin, was punctuated with that one hand that had not been gripping her hips coming to sway in front of her eyes. Those two fingers, which Yang had done _that_ with, promptly moved forward and found the Faunus' lips, which had stayed regrettably open in her breathless state. In all the time she and Yang had been partners, Blake had never paid much mind to the girl's incredible reach, but now she could not help but mind it as two fingers found and pressed against her tongue. She immediately tasted…

 _Oh_.

Yang tasted better, though.

But these thoughts were flung far into the back of her mind as soon as Yang pressed the next kiss against Blake's clit. On reflex, Blake stiffened, incidentally closing her lips around the fingers. This was actually happening, and the fingers that now poked at her tongue seemed to reiterate that.

Yang made an appreciative sound, gripping Blake's hip tightly with her other hand. She hadn't even begun yet, and her eyes had already closed. "I can see why this was so much fun for you last night," she whispered, warm breath running across Blake's vulva. "I haven't even started yet, and I'm already addicted to you."

Without warning, her tongue darted out and took a quick swipe along Blake's labia. Still sensitive to Yang's touch, the Faunus' reaction was instant. Her back arched, fire coursing through her body, and, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, her lips and tongue welcomed those fingers, if only because they were more of _Yang_. And that was only one lick.

Part of Blake wanted to stop Yang. She wanted to tell her that this wasn't necessary and that it was her turn to get off instead. But another part of Blake—a larger part—told her that this was a stupid idea. She was having this debate in her mind while Yang's one lick turned to two and three and wracked her partner's body each time. Prudishness and selflessness aside, Blake knew, deep down, that she was loving this—every swipe of Yang's tongue and every press of Yang's fingers—and this feeling only grew closer to the forefront of her mind as Yang kept licking. Blake thought about stopping her, but she was just _too good_.

But then, to top that all off, Yang _moaned_ , sending vibrations and shivers all the way up the Faunus' body, causing Blake to moan, too. "Yang!" she tried to say. But she was muffled by the fingers. These calls for her partner only increased in frequency as Yang's tongue worked her over—pressing deep into her and dragging heavily across her clit. Wanting to say Yang's name again—wanting Yang to hear it and get even more turned on—she took one of her hands and pulled Yang's own out of her mouth.

" _Yang_ ," she panted, feeling the slick fingers coming to rest on her cheek. The only answer this received was a particularly long drag of the flat of Yang's tongue and a gentle caress of the palm against Blake's cheek. Blake, in turn, answered this with a groan and taking the thumb of that hand, so close as it was to the corner of her lips, into her mouth. She needed anything of Yang's— _everything_ of Yang—right now.

And so she would have it, it seemed. After that long drag, Yang came to a stop, pressing her nose against Blake's sensitive bud for a momentary inhale before moving up and latching her mouth onto it. Blake nearly jumped off the windowsill as soon as Yang began to suck. The golden girl groaned, exhaled, moaned in appreciation at _finally_ being able to do this. And Blake felt similarly.

Blake's free hand gripped Yang's hair again, but her grip softened, veritably petting the blonde, while her other hand coaxed Yang's thumb further into her mouth. She drew a breath in and sucked on the digit, finding a sense of…comfort in this lavishing attention. Her back was pressed against blinds, which were pressed against the window, and Yang was beneath her, and Blake could not care. All she could think about was how _incredible_ her girlfriend was.

But then Yang pulled away, Blake shivering at the hot breaths escaping the panting blonde. "I…I can't. Blake…" her eyes, burning lilac, were trained on Blake. Only on Blake. "This is just so…"

She did not finish her sentence, closing her eyes again and reapplying herself to Blake's pleasure. The Faunus groaned just as Yang did. It was just so… This entire experience was just… Why did Blake ever say no to _this_?

The little embers that had persisted throughout these last twenty-four hours once again combined to a larger, brighter flame that burned deep within Blake's belly. She did not know why her back was arching or how she was able to bend forward immediately after. She did not care what was going on with her toes not touching the floor anymore or when they started curling. What mattered was where these sensations were coming from and who she could thank for them.

"Sorry, Blakey," Yang suddenly breathed and, before Blake could register that or be confused by it, pulled her hand away from her partner's face in order to grip Blake's other hip and somehow deepen the ministrations. Her lips seemed to embrace Blake's bud before sucking adoringly, and the Faunus' muscles constricted, assaulted by a first wave of lightning, the beginning of the final plateau.

"Ya- _aa-aang._ " Blake's mind reeled with unbelievable pleasure. One of her hands gripped the windowsill so hard her knuckles turned white while the other found Yang's bicep, iron-solid muscles easily supporting the weight. Her breathing became fast and shallow, heart hammering, body trembling and—

" _Blake_ ," Yang moaned, deep and sensual, "you're so…hahh… _hot_ …"

And Blake came undone. Her mind, her body seized, and stars filled her vision. She shut her eyes, whimpered, gasped, and choked as the electricity coursed up her throat from her lower belly once, twice, thrice before she lost count. Yang rode it out with her, tongue pressing into every throb of Blake's clit, matching every thud of her heart, and the Faunus melted into her girlfriend's ardent, loving attentions.

Breathless, she found herself wheezing Yang's name over and over again, trying to convey just how _happy_ she was, and the blonde seemed to get it—and especially appreciate it, too, because she groaned again and gave Blake's clit another phenomenally torrid, slow but completely consuming kiss.

Lightning struck yet again, and after a brief onslaught of vertigo, Blake felt her body catch fire. Tears filled her eyes at the sheer amount of pleasure she felt, wave after wave of ecstasy overwhelming her senses.

"…Hahh-ahh- _ahhh_!"

Scandalous. She should not have been so loud and there was no doubt she'd be embarrassed about it later. But it was as if her insides themselves were rocking to the motion and rhythm of Yang's tongue and lips, and Blake couldn't help the passionate cries of her lover's name. It was just so…amazing, beyond her wildest, previously suppressed dreams.

And Yang was there for her girlfriend the whole time, holding Blake closer, tightening her own grip and putting everything into riding out this prolonged climax. She continued to lick and suck and feel, and she was gentle as well as rough—mindful of the bliss she was causing and intent on eking out more and more. Blake's tears escaped and ran down her cheeks, and Yang's name only continued to spill from her lips, each time slurring and deteriorating into incoherency.

Her entire body seemed to hum and tingle, every nerve alight with fire and lightning.

It wasn't until Blake's body started to relax, muscles unclenching as she came down from above cloud nine, that Yang's grip untightened. Her lavishing ministrations persisted for only another short moment, as if knowing that Blake could still receive pleasure from them, and then she pulled away, almost against her will.

Blake, still supporting herself with one hand on the windowsill and the other on Yang's bicep, leaned forward a little, shoulders drooping, and hung her head as she panted. The warm, sweet feeling of bathing in utter joy and satisfaction made itself known, an afterglow even greater than that of the night before. She didn't know how that had been possible. It was unreal—but completely and wonderfully true.

Yang kept her hands on Blake's hips, supporting the rest of her partner's weight, and started the slow travel back up with gentle kisses that expressed just how much she loved her Faunus. When those lips reached her sternum, Blake, still breathless—still speechless, really—opened her eyes and gazed down into pools of adoring lilac. A smile gradually formed across Yang's face, sincere and every bit as radiant as ever. She was happy, too.

"Did you…" Yang seemed to restrain herself from laughing, "Did you come twice?"

Blake creased her eyebrows, a blush creeping up her neck. Coherent thoughts seemed to fail her—much less words. "Uh…"

And Yang did laugh, softly but joyfully, but she leaned upwards further, hands moving to Blake's waist, if only to kiss the Faunus very tenderly on the lips. "I love you, Blake," she murmured, sounding touched. "I love you so much."

Blake shuddered, somehow still effected by Yang's voice and kiss, and realized that she was still shedding tears, too. Was this what it had come to? Blake, usually the composed and calm girl at Beacon, reduced to a puddle of tears every time she and Yang had sex?

Well, again, there were worse things in life.

"I love you, too, Yang," she was finally able to say, albeit hoarsely.

"God, you were so _hot_ ," Yang breathed, pushing a deeper, more desirous kiss on her girlfriend, her words coming out without filters again. "Just…like…Blake… That was…wow… Even for me." They kissed again, Blake only being able to follow along but doing so happily.

She then tried to stand as she did this, pushing feebly off the windowsill with the hand that gripped it and returning to the floor. In response, Yang backed away somewhat, letting Blake have her space while they stayed connected by their kiss, but just as soon as Blake's brows furrowed, noticing the uncoordinated and altogether weak efforts of her knees and legs, Yang moved in to catch her with a hug. Blake could not stand on her own, and were this any other time, pride would have made her refuse this gesture. But now she was thankful to be in Yang's arms and to hold Yang just the same.

"Careful, kitten." Breaking the kiss, Yang smirked at her partner, gently, teasingly, and lovingly. "You've still gotta find your legs again. Let's just take it easy for now. Lemme help you." After saying this, she once again picked Blake up into her arms without a problem and carried the Faunus back over to the deflated mattress. It wasn't the most ideal place to retire to, but there were still blankets and pillows on top of it, and these offered sufficient padding to keep it from being entirely uncomfortable.

That said, Blake probably would have to talk about this carrying thing before it became a joke. She didn't _mind_ it, per se, but she had a little more pride than that.

However, Yang didn't have them lie down like last time. Instead, she lowered herself to sit against the wall, keeping Blake on her lap, facing her. It was surprisingly pleasant—probably because they were still so close to each other. Yang's muscles relaxed with this reprieve, and Blake made sure to kiss her shoulders as Yang rolled them. They put in a lot of work today. In return, Blake felt fingers gently scratch against her back—a little, soothing motion that made the Faunus' muscles relax, too.

"Okay," Yang exhaled. "So, that was—"

"Yang, don't call what we just did 'a thing.'" For some reason, sex made Blake sleepy. Or maybe she was just exhausted. Maybe sex in the early morning and then sex in the late morning wasn't a great combination. Regardless, her sleepiness made her slap-happy, and such was why she could smirk, managing, "I have a name, you know."

The brawler's chest rumbled with laughter, and Blake hummed happily.

"Fine. That was a Blake, then."

"That's…not what I meant…"

"Kitten, you're out of it. You set yourself up for your own joke. Nobody does that, kitten."

"Don't patronize me, you fiend."

"There she is."

Gingerly, the hand scratching Blake's back glided up across her still-sensitive spine and through her hair, combing out the little knots that had accumulated, and, finally, up to the base of her cat ears. There, Yang continued to scratch, letting Blake lean against her while she, herself, continued to lean against the wall. Her chuckle persisted.

But despite this mirth, and despite her own good mood, Blake was given pause. What had just happened was amazing—"hot," to use Yang's descriptor. But the number of times Yang had said it was hot and moaned and put just that little extra bit of enthusiasm into her motions made something pretty obvious to the raven-haired girl.

Blake smiled with her partner, but she had to ask, "Yang?"

The blonde hummed "Hm?" in response.

"Are you…okay? Do you…need some…attention, too?"

Again, Yang chuckled—importantly, not denying the question. "I just ate you out, and you're still _this_ prudish. I guess I didn't do well enough, huh?"

"Wh—Yang, you did fine. I promi—"

"Oh, I know I did fine."

"Okay. Just making su—"

"I did you, after all." Blake groaned, her joke having turned on her. Yang smirked. "You have a name, you know."

"Yang, just answer the question, please."

"All right, all right." The scratching motion at Blake's ears slowed but did not cease. There was an ease about Yang's warmth now, a composure and certainty in the way Blake was held by her. Yet still her words came jokingly and aversive of the question. "I'm honestly fine. You _did_ work me up a little bit with all the noises and stuff you made—like, I'm sorry I asked you to say my name so much. It was just really hot. But…yeah, I'm fine. It's nothing I can't handle."

For one thing, this was a lie. That much was obvious. But for another thing, this was a variation on a theme with Yang: she wanted something, prepared for it, but whenever she was offered the opportunity, she turned it down. It was kind of sad in a way. But Blake would not put up with either—not right now. Right now, Yang needed tending to. And Blake needed to tend to Yang.

"Yang," Blake sighed, exasperated but patient. She pulled away from her girlfriend's shoulder, coming to look her dead in the eye. "If I go shower, can you honestly say that you'll get ready for the day?"

The blonde grinned. "Yup!"

But her eyes betrayed her, glancing down for the briefest of moments.

Blake sighed again, detaching her arms from around her partner's back and forcing Yang's arms to do the same by sitting up. She then left Yang's lap, moving to slouch beside her and beneath the arm that was quickly placed over her shoulders. Blake rested her head on the bicep behind her and looked back up to Yang's eyes.

She thought about saying something but then thought against it. Blake simply kissed Yang and, as the brawler's eyes closed, Blake slid a hand down Yang's abs. She did not linger there long—though she _wanted_ to—instead letting her fingers wander further downward, beneath the band of Yang's sweatpants, until she reached her mark.

The response was immediate. Yang's legs clamped down tightly on Blake's hand before relaxing again while her smile turned sheepish. Yang had _definitely_ been lying.

This would not be another strenuous romp; frankly, Blake didn't have it in her to do any amount of lifting or maneuvering or licking. She just wanted to make sure Yang enjoyed herself while she enjoyed Yang's company. And Yang didn't seem to mind this attention, either. In fact, all the half-hearted protests she had given earlier seemed so distant in the past. All her lies turned to moans as she broke the kiss.

As Blake's finger worked leisurely into her partner, said partner, through grit teeth, challenged, "It's gonna take more than that to get me off."

"No, it isn't, Yang."

" _What's that supposed to_ —"

"Just hold me and relax."

And Yang did. No matter how much she liked to tease Blake, Yang understood when to back down from a fight. With arms tense yet somehow relenting, she pulled Blake against her chest, burying her steadily gasping mouth in raven locks. Blake, in turn, closed her eyes as she worked Yang over. It was a steady motion—nothing too fast, nothing too teasing. It was leisurely but enough to help. Two fingers pumped while the palm above them gave a steady, constant pressure. And Yang seemed to appreciate this.

" _Blake_ ," she sighed, "how'd you get so _good_ at this? You're, like—How many times have you thought about doing this to me?"

As Yang breathed another heavy sigh and rolled her hips against Blake's hand, Blake smiled into her partner's collarbone, pecking it lightly. "After last night? It's all I've been thinking about," she breathed, trying her best Yang-voice impression. "I lost count. But I don't care. I have you _now_."

A hasty kiss was placed between Blake's cat ears. "Yeah, you do," Yang half-laughed, half-moaned, hesitating at a particularly deep thrust of Blake's fingers. "Now and forever, kitty."

"So cheesy…" Blake chastised, but her own sighs came as sighs of contentment, contrasting the deep growl coming from Yang's throat. One of these days, Blake was going to learn how to set Yang off like Yang set her off—one of these days, she was going to find a chink in the invincible brawler's armor. But, for now, Blake was happy to hear Yang say all these flattering things and gradually come undone in such an easy, thankful way.

With her position, Blake's ear was on Yang's chest, and a strong, steadily quickening heartbeat hammered in that chest. Above her, breaths and moans came ragged, off-beat to the motions of Blake's hand. The Faunus, comfortable in her cuddle, kept her ear to Yang's heart and kissed the blushing skin wherever she could. This helped both of them. Not only was Blake content and comfortable to pleasure her partner and reap the aural benefits thereof, Yang was getting close, too. Blake could feel the arousal steadily leaking between her fingers and across her palm, and she could feel Yang tightening down on her. But this was good. Blake enjoyed this.

"I… _huh_ …don't know who has the better fingers. Me or you."

Blake's smile wavered for a moment, but she was not upset. Partially, she was flattered, being compared to Yang—whose fingers were _divine_ —but Blake also felt a little…feisty right now. That was a challenge Yang presented. Moreover, it was a challenge whose only prize was Yang's orgasm, so Blake took Yang up on the offer and, with smile renewed, pumped her in earnest.

"O- _ooh_!"

The arm around Blake's shoulder tightened, Yang's form succumbing to the throes of her attentions—back arching, legs closing, breaths unequal. And this was not helped by Blake. As her fingers massaged the constricting passage, she felt, at some point along the roof of this passage, a spot that stood out to her. As her fingers returned to it again, they brushed across the rougher patch of muscle, and the Faunus immediately knew the exact bundle of nerves she had found.

"Theeere," Yang sighed, saying the word with a bit of a growl, too. She tried to say something else, but she was caught by her own moan, one that was _particularly_ loud.

The neighbors _had_ to have heard that.

 _Don't think about them_ , Blake thought to herself. _Just focus on Yang._

With her hand now tooled to stroke both the interior and exterior bundles of nerves automatically, she focused on peppering Yang's upper chest with kisses. It was a difficult task, what with Yang's chest heaving sporadically and Blake's head being moved with it, but the bookworm managed. Unfortunately, "managed" was a good descriptor for how her actions felt.

She opened her eyes, stopped kissing her partner, but kept her hand moving. She pulled away, wrenching herself free from the arm around her shoulders, and moved to straddle Yang.

Surprised, Yang looked to her, lilac eyes burning with lust. _Now_ Blake was focusing on Yang. And Yang was focusing on her—like Blake had something Yang needed, like Blake was _everything_ Yang needed. "Wait," Yang said between gasps. Before Blake could respond, she felt two hands on the side of her head, and she was pulled down, lips finding Yang's. "Like this," implored the blonde, grasping for any part of Blake she could and pulling the Faunus closer but never letting that hand slip from its ministrations.

Blake was pleased by Yang's desire, a small smile gracing her features as she embraced her girlfriend—tenderly but inflamed with passion, too. There was still a large part of her that marveled at the newness and the intensity of the feelings, but she was happy here, happy with Yang and everything they had together, and she wanted Yang to know that—more than anything, and she hoped her caresses and affections conveyed it.

"Mmm, Blake," moaned Yang between kisses. "You're so beautiful. You're gorgeous. You have… _ah_ …the best fingers. _Ooh—_ And you smell amazing. I just wanna touch you—I just wanna be with you— _Blake_ —I love you… I love you…"

They were flatteries for sure, but…something about them stirred emotion within Blake, and, as insincere as they might have been, they felt real. Therefore, Blake began to think they were real. And as she began to think they were real, she began to realize that Yang would never lie about these things—the Yang she knew was only loving, never out for her own release. With this in mind and being certain that these flatteries were firm beliefs, Blake pressed harder against her partner, muting her own moan with Yang's and moving the girl closer to the release she so deserved.

But Yang kept saying "I love you." Every chance she had between kisses and moans and gasps, she said, "I love you." The words began to slur into each other and Yang's voice was reaching a different pitch, but she still said, "I love you." Throughout all the bucks and thrusts and arches, Yang expressed her love for Blake, interrupted as her speech occasionally was, and her body communicated in kind. Her fingers gripped and explored Blake's back, her lips found and embraced Blake's own, and the passage around Blake's fingers got wetter and tighter until…

" _Blake_ ," Yang squeaked.

She gripped Blake in a vice, walls spasming and mouth losing grip on her girlfriend's. She choked, kicked once, and seized for a long, eye-contact-holding, breathtaking moment—one which Blake was compelled to smile knowingly at—before Yang collapsed into Blake, burying her face in the Faunus' neck and holding tight against her, so much so that Blake had to relax and stop breathing for a moment. Yang was wheezing and panting, freezing—but also warming—Blake in her presence.

Leisurely again, Blake was still able to move her hand, so she used her thumb to give Yang's clit a little more attention, first circling before rubbing up and down, feeling it pulse against her finger. Yang's hips protested, bucking into the motions, and Yang moaned against Blake's collarbone, body shuddering once.

Eventually, Blake slowed the ministrations, and Yang's grip on her relaxed, too. The bookworm was finally able to breathe, and while one hand caressed the blonde's shoulder, Blake retracted her other from Yang's sweatpants and stared at it for a moment. Last time Blake had pumped her fingers into the brawler, she'd really only gotten fluids over her two digits. This time…well, this time, something in Blake's chest clenched and she swallowed hard.

The clear, lightly viscous liquid was all over her palm, some of it accumulating between her fingers and trickling all the way down to her wrist.

Blake realized she couldn't move, eyes frozen on her hand like a deer in the headlights.

Yang, who, somewhere during the time Blake's mind came to a halt, seemed to have caught her breath again, pulled away from her partner a little. Her eyes were immediately drawn to what Blake was so focused on, and then there was a moment of pause.

Yang glanced at Blake's unmoving form, then at Blake's hand again, and asked quietly into the silence, real serious, "Are you gonna lick that?"

Blake's mind instantly jumped into a scramble, and she sputtered, pure embarrassment causing a blush to burn over the entirety of her face. "Uh…uh-um…I mean—uh, what?" And still her eyes went right back to her palm, transfixed. She had no idea what to do. There was just so much. All she knew was that there was something constricting her throat and blocking any intelligible words from exiting.

Yang looked to Blake again, apparently _actually_ wanting an answer, but then she seemed to—much to Blake's horror—clue in to the real reason why Blake was seized. A grin spread across her lips, knowing and mischievous, and Yang's fingers wrapped around Blake's forearm one after the other.

Blake panicked, heartbeat accelerating and eyes going back and forth between Yang and her own hand, desperately wanting to do _something_ about this. But for whatever continued reason, Blake was frozen and forced to watch as Yang took advantage of the situation…again.

She started at Blake's wrist. Slowly, the tip of her tongue gathered the fluid that had trickled the furthest downwards. Blake's bottom lip trembled, and Yang—somehow still smirking, every bit as resplendent as usual—kept checking on her from the corner of her eyes, knowing _all too well_ the exact effect she had on her partner. Her tongue traveled upwards, agonizingly slow, flattening out against Blake's palm, and golden irises remained fixed on the movement, the Faunus hanging on this as if it meant her life. Whatever it was that was constricting her throat—this anticipation, this…this trepidation—was not welcome, and yet Blake's inaction betrayed just how very much she wanted it.

Yang's warm, wet tongue continued its hot trek across the raven-haired girl's fluid-covered skin, flexing as it reached Blake's middle finger. A shiver went through Blake's body as her heart pounded in her chest. This had been a very quick reversal of roles—the Faunus had absolutely no more control over the situation. And it made her legs weak all over again.

The blonde closed her eyes as her tongue started ascending the digit, and Blake's breathing was coming faster now, too, waiting, waiting… And Yang took the finger into her mouth, sinfully savoring her own taste on Blake's skin. The bookworm immediately stopped breathing, clenched her jaw, heart in her throat, and as Yang approached the tip, Blake felt her suck—just as adoringly as she had on her clit. And then she moaned, low and heavy, and just as Blake expected her to let go and allow the Faunus to fall, Yang instead took the finger deeper into her mouth again, tongue sliding against and hugging Blake's skin.

Except Blake couldn't handle it. She gasped and grabbed Yang's wrist, blushing fiercely and breathing harshly, heart racing.

Yang opened her eyes, evidently amused, but she stopped and released Blake's finger—parting from it with a goodbye kiss, an action that pulled another shudder out of her girlfriend. "What's up, kitty?" asked Yang innocently but with the expression of someone who was up to no good.

"Yang," Blake finally managed, albeit breathily and tense. "You're driving me up the wall."

"Well, that's kinda the point. You know you love it."

"Yang," Blake tried again, doing her best to remain calm but mostly failing. And Yang didn't even let her finish her thought.

" _Did_ you want to lick that? 'Cause I saved you some."

Blake's eyes were once again drawn to the remaining fluid on her hand. It was a literal, physical effort to tear her gaze away and focus on Yang again. She cleared her throat. "I need to shower."

Yang laughed. "Oh, no. You're not changing the subject that fast. I'm literally in heaven right now—you keep getting horny and I just want more of you anyway." She lowered her voice, adding in a husk, "I could go all morning…"

Blake shivered, but Yang wasn't done yet. Keeping Blake's forearm in her grasp, Yang leaned into her partner, laying a kiss on the side of her neck. "I think that's a problem."

"Blake, I'm trying to seduce you. Work with me here." Another kiss was laid on the Faunus' collarbone.

" _Seduce_ me? But you just did! We just—"

" _Kitty_ …" The nibbling started.

Blake had to fight against herself to resist this. Again, she had no valid reason to do so, but her sense of propriety dictated that there were other things to do than Yang during the day. It wasn't that she didn't _want_ to keep making sweet, passionate love to Yang for the next…few weeks, but the mattress…

Well, the mattress needed renewing. There was that. They could come back after. And hopefully not break it again…or break it again. Whichever.

Okay, this needed to stop. Blake didn't even recognize herself anymore. She was about to put her hands on Yang's arms to push the blonde away— _firmly—_ but then immediately recalled that one of her hands was…unusable. Heart still pounding like a kick drum, Blake instead used her one hand to push Yang back. "Yang, I'm serious. I need to shower, then we need to finish doing the dishes and then we have to buy a new mattress. And you need to call Ruby back."

Yang didn't try to kiss Blake again, but she looked something between disappointed and amused. "Talking about chores in bed isn't sexy, you know."

Heat rose to the raven-haired girl's face. Still, it seemed that her girlfriend would actually cooperate this time. Hopefully. "I'm not trying to be sexy."

A mischievous smile hovered on Yang's lips. "You don't have to try…"

"Oh my God, Yang. Please, _stop_."

"But—"

"No! No 'buts,' no nothing." Blake tried to make her voice sound sterner…although the current situation and her lack of clothes made it a little difficult to seem as serious as she meant to be.

Yang finally relented, though. "Okay, kitten." She beamed, showing Blake that everything was alright. "But can I join you in the shower?"

"No!"

And so, it was while Yang fell over in a fit of laughter that Blake left the room— _finally—_ to get cleaned up so they could do more productive things with their day.

And then maybe, once Blake was feeling accomplished about today and checked off every item on her mental to-do list, they could continue where they left off, later in the evening.

Maybe.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONE MORE CHAPTER TO GO. TELL YOUR FRIENDS, TELL YOUR FAMILY—IN TWO DAYS, THE SMUT TRAIN WILL RETURN THE STATION. AND THEN YOU CAN GET OFF—IN THE "DISEMBARK" DEFINITION OF THE WORD, PERTAINING TO LITERAL TRAINS AND STATIONS. IF YOU TELL ME THAT YOU GOT OFF BEFORE THE TRAIN REACHED THE STATION, I WILL HAVE THE FEDERAL RAILROAD ADMINISTRATION COME DOWN ON YOU LIKE A PLATOON OF FLAMING VALKERIES. YOU WILL KNOW FURY.
> 
> AND IF YOU MAKE A JOKE ABOUT THEM COMING DOWN ON YOU, WELL, AT LEAST YOU'LL HAVE ENOUGH TIME TO GET YOUR ACT TOGETHER WHILE YOU'RE IN PRISON. AND THEN YOU CAN GET AROUND TO THAT QUILT YOU'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO QUILT, BECAUSE THERE'S JUST NEVER ENOUGH TIME TO DO THAT IN NORMAL SOCIETY.
> 
> Anyway, see you in two days, 哥儿们.


	5. Even in Death

Blake felt Yang's eyes on her as she walked out of the bedroom, picking her yukata up as she crossed the hall and moved into the bathroom. Once the door was closed, she could hear Yang sigh happily and then proceed to do nothing except, probably, rest and smile. As to the latter, Blake could not claim to be much different. Even as she moved around the tiled room, ensuring a towel was in the right place and the shower was warming up, she could not keep a pleased smirk off her face. She was tired and wobbly and honestly didn't know what she was doing—in general or in here—but she also felt happy.

But then, as she faced the mirror, her expression paused.

The first thing she noticed was that she was not simply happy. She looked _elated_. It was definitely a _relative_ look of elation—considering the girl in the reflection, after all—but something about that girl's eyes and smile and the positive glow to her skin… It was interesting to say the least.

But then her elation froze, too. As she looked herself over, her eyes fell upon her hand— _that_ hand—and… Well, she debated with herself. Her knees felt weak and her mind went to dark places at this remnant of Yang, but, at the same time, she had her sensibilities to uphold. And she was done with sex for now. And the fluid had begun to dry. And she was not _that_ desperate. She stared at her hand for a few seconds more, shook her head, and then washed the fluid off in the sink.

Later.

Later if she and Yang were good.

She made this her mantra as she stepped into the shower, repeating it over and over again as she got ready for the day ahead. Later if she and Yang were good. They had to clean dishes. They had to buy a bed. They had to call Ruby back. _Later if she and Yang were good_.

The shower went by stressfully.

* * *

"And I said, 'Look, pal. Just because I don't have a sword doesn't mean I can't take care of your Grimm problem.' But he just told me to go away and stop selling him stuff."

"And what did you do after that?"

"I gave him the name of a good pest control service. One that kinda maybe doesn't exist."

Yang closed the apartment door behind them, shaking her head at the memory. She was talking about a routine house-call mission completed during the final year—one of her solo missions. Blake had had to deal with a pack of…well, schoolchildren. Some elementary school wanted a huntress in training to come talk to them, and Blake got stuck with that job. Why couldn't that assignment have gone to Yang or Ruby? In any case, neither girl was particularly hesitant about this break they were given or the jobs they would have to take care of after—even though they had graduated, they had technically been hunting for almost a year now. And the stories got more mundane by the day. The door was locked.

"Oh, Yang. You have to work on that attitude of yours."

"I am an angel, thank you very much. I just felt…you know…feisty that day. What? Was I supposed to let the guy who claimed he had Grimm squirrels in his attic tell me to get lost because I don't look like Jaune? I mean, who wants to look like Jaune?"

"I imagine _he_ wanted you to. But whatever. At least you took care of it."

"See? That's why I like you. You and me think alike. Breaking and entering is _totally_ 'taking care of it.' I don't care what Ozpin says."

"Oh, Yang."

Yang turned to Blake with a smile, and as the Faunus glanced down—following the cue of Yang's eyes—she saw a hand extended her way. Although Blake did keep her smile up, the mantra continued to repeat in her head, and, with much reluctance and struggle, she avoided the hand to give Yang a hearty pat on her shoulder.

The world paused, and both girls realized what a horrible mistake had been made.

…a hearty…pat.

"You want me that bad, huh?" Yang asked.

"…A little bit."

Grinning now, Yang started moving down the hall. "Ohh, I'm so _glad_ I have that effect on you."

Blake wanted to die. _A pat on the shoulder?_ When did she learn to be so awkward?

Worse, Yang was delighting in this awkwardness. Blake's expression sank accordingly.

She followed her girlfriend nevertheless, tucking her hands poutingly into the pockets of her hoodie. Everything was back to normal—Yang was cheery and _dressed_ , the sun was shining, and Blake was being productive—except for the fact that Blake's mind had found new residency in the gutter. And the gutter was a lot—a _lot_ —dirtier than she anticipated. And, by proxy, so was her mind.

This was all Yang's fault.

Except for Blake's consent.

But that was Yang's fault, too.

The two made it to the elevator, Yang pressing the down button as Blake stood off to the side. Nothing was said here, Blake's mind still reeling from that _pat on the shoulder_ , but amber eyes were trained on the golden form before her. Yang rocked herself from heel to toe as she waited, and though Blake tried to keep her eyes on the respectable, lilac parts of Yang, her eyes did not like that, and she did not like them for not liking that. _Why did Yang have to rock right now?!_

Her attention was— _thankfully_ —spared by the _click_ and quiet _woosh_ of a nearby door opening. In fact, both girls found that the door directly across from the elevator had opened, and, through the small gap in that door, out poked a head. It was one of their neighbors, visibly peeved.

"Are you the two girls that just moved in?"

Yang beamed greetingly at this croaked question. "Yup! I'm Yang and this is—"

"You two need to either keep it down or take your orgies somewhere else."

Blake died. She could almost feel her soul slipping from her body. Death was a lot more painful than she imagined it being.

"I, uh…orgies?" asked Yang, something of a laugh to her words.

"I don't care what you girls do, just keep it down. People live here."

"Oh… Um, yeah. We'll make sure to tell our orgy fellows to keep it down next time. No problem!"

"Good. Just… Yeah."

The woman began to close her door, but Blake, still dying on the inside but wanting to live just a little longer, tried to pull herself somewhat out of the gutter. She faced the woman, cheeks burning, and said quickly, "I'm sorry. It won't happen again. And we don't orgy."

The woman stared at her, a mix of confusion, disbelief, and disgust on her features before she wordlessly shut the door.

_We don't orgy?_

"Wow."

 _Ding_. The elevator arrived. Blake hurried inside and faced the wall.

"Wow," Yang repeated. She was grinning in awe.

Blake heard Yang press the lobby button, and the elevator shut. _Did we wake her up?_

"Wow. Like…" Yang sighed…wistfully. "All the way down the hall?"

"That's _not_ what you should be concerned about!"

Blake and Yang looked over their respective shoulders at each other, one in despair, the other thrilled. "Do you think the neighbors liked it?"

Is this what an aneurism felt like? _"I know I don't_ ," argued Blake.

"I mean… Like… TBH, you screamed louder than me."

Blake turned her head back to the wall and did the only thing her mind would let her do: she muttered, "I want to die."

But she was—unthankfully—shaken from this distress by a hearty pat to her own shoulder. "There, there, _we-don't-orgy_ fellow. It'll all be okay."

"The neighbors hate us."

"I think the problem is that you hate yourself."

"I hate _you_."

"That's not the impression you gave me last night. Oh, and what an impression you made…"

There was no death. Death did not exist. There was only pain for the bad and goodness for the good. Where had all Blake's prudishness gone—where was her goodness? Why wouldn't it come back? She wished death would take her now.

She soon found herself enveloped in a hug, Yang's strong, warm, and completely not-sexual arms wrapping around Blake's front. However, the embrace soon made itself out to be not as sexual as Blake had expected it to be. It was just a hug. She was just swaying with Yang. And soon, assurances of "It's okayyy" got her to calm down.

For the most part. Then came the pesky problem of the lobby.

With another _ding_ , the doors reopened, and when Yang detached and Blake turned, the two were met with another tenant. It was a man this time. And as Blake stared at him like a deer would at a monster truck, he met her gaze and _winked_.

Chills.

Cold, _cold_ chills.

All the way down her spine.

"So, how was the orgy?"

Cold, _cold_ death.

"You know," Yang said, bringing his attention her way, "not too bad, actually. But not our best. Hi, I'm—"

" _Leaving_ ," Blake stressed, urgently pulling Yang out of the elevator and lobby by the hand. All Yang did was snicker, and Blake did not care what the guy did, as they made their way out into the debilitatingly crisp weather of springtime Vale.

"Well, at least we know _one_ person who liked it."

Blake turned on her girlfriend, not minding the public spectacle she might have been causing. Her cheeks were burning, her mind was spinning, and she was stuck somewhere between embarrassed and furious. " _Yang_ ," she said, half-seething, "stop it. Just… Stop. For one minute. Please."

And so Yang did. Her expression evened, smile falling away and eyes losing the mischievous cheer that had been with her since last night. She had calmed. "All right."

Blake sighed heavily. She wasn't mad at Yang, and she couldn't stay mad at her, but… "Yang," she began, "can we please just ease off these kinds of jokes?"

Yang blinked. "…Yeah. Yeah, sure. I didn't mean to push them as far as I did. I just thought—"

"It's okay, Yang. Just…" Blake sighed again, and, trying to figure out what else to say, decided to take a seat on the steps leading up to their apartment building. "Just…I want you to make those jokes. They're funny, honestly. But I don't want you to make jokes like those in public."

"And I guess flirting with that guy was a no-no."

"…Yes."

"Yeah, that was pretty careless of me, I'll admit." Yang sat down beside Blake, staring out at the light traffic that ran both ways down the street. The two were quiet for a moment before Yang continued. "Like, honestly, I meant _all_ of that as a joke. And I'm pretty sure you know that, but it's probably worth repeating. And you know what? Sometimes I find my jokes funnier than other people find them. I got carried away back there, and I shouldn't have made some of the comments I did."

"Yang, it's—"

"I know. But still. This isn't the Yang show. I have to think of you, too, when I'm goofing off, and if I'm embarrassing you, I should stop."

She hummed a little, thinking. Yes, she was regretful and, yes, she was apologetic, but her warmth persisted and so too did her positive and playful tone. Blake glanced to her side, finding that Yang held a smile. Eyes trained almost dreamily on the molasses traffic before her, she said, "I'm just happy."

That voice. Definitely, in certain gutter-side contexts, it could evoke certain gutter-side reactions out of Blake, but it was also amazing in its own right. Yang wore her heart on her sleeve—on her emblem, even—and Blake had known this before, but something about _this_ admission felt extraordinarily candid. It was as though her use of "happy" did not come anywhere close to connoting the sheer glee she was trying to get across, but Yang's voice made it all the clearer just how happy she truly was. Her smile widened, dreamy eyes turning to face her partner, and she moved a hand up and placed it on Blake's shoulder… _heartily_.

"That said…I don't regret _all_ of my jokes."

"…I'm not getting off the hook for that one, am I?"

"Oh, no, kitten. That was _so_ awkward. Like…that's something my dad would do."

Allowing herself to smirk, too, Blake said, "My condolences."

"Nah, it's all good." Without mentioning it, Yang then slipped her hand into Blake's, holding them in the Faunus' lap. "But can I have your permission to make a sex joke?"

Blake considered it for a moment, wanting to side with "no," but, in the end, her amusement with Yang won out. "Fine."

"I know at least one cure for your awkwardness, but it's kind of topical."

Blake blinked.

"If you know what I mean!"

"Not…really?"

"It means I could finger the awkwardness out of you."

"Oh…"

"But maybe later." Yang, keeping Blake's hand in her own, stood from the steps. She tugged. "Now, c'mon. We've gotta act like productive citizens for just a few more hours. _And_ we've gotta get us a bed."

But the girl in black continued to sit there, thinking as she ran a thumb over Yang's fingers. She agreed entirely, and she did want to get up, but…well, she was still getting over her embarrassment—and was nowhere near calm—and understood that her sitting gave her a bargaining advantage. She looked up at her grinning girlfriend, frowned a little, and said, "All right. But only if you promise to behave."

"I mean, I could leave you here and come back with a waterbed."

"All right," said Blake with zero hesitation. "I'm getting up."

And so Blake did. She could _not_ win with Yang. Especially when it came to mattresses and mattress-related activities.

The Faunus was greeted with a welcoming squeeze of her hand and a bump from Yang's shoulder. "You _cannot_ win with me."

"I could if I withheld sex…"

"Which is something I think you're unable to do."

"Yeah…"

"Oh, I've created a monster. A beautiful, wonderful monster."

Blake smirked as Yang began to lead her ahead, golden locks flailing in the wind. And as Yang had purportedly _created_ a beautiful, wonderful monster, it seemed that Blake had _released_ one of her own. They were both culpable—for the loudness and jokes of this morning—and this, oddly, made Blake feel a bit better. She still wanted to die, but not quite as much anymore.

"I still hate you."

"I love you, too, kitten."

Blake knew she did. Ever since graduation and the party thereafter, Blake knew Yang loved her but on a deeper, more stable level than she had known before, and now with the added factors of the house and the bed and last night… No, Blake did not hate Yang. And she had known for a long time that Yang loved her, but now she was confident in that fact. Yang could joke to whomever, and Blake could say whatever, but Blake knew that Yang would continue to love her and her alone throughout all of it.

She leaned over and pecked her girlfriend's cheek, resting her head on her shoulder, and feeling Yang press back against her. This was home—this was the heart of their home. All the beds broken and not, all the boxes unpacked and stubbing were only extras to Yang's love. Their home could be anywhere, but the two chose it to be here—not because it was convenient or frugal but because Yang liked it and so too did Blake. They could have gone off and been solo huntresses like many other graduates, but these two chose to stay together despite the possible fame and fortune. There was life beyond each other, but was it worth living without that love?

No, Blake was confident now — maybe not about all things, but certainly about one thing.

Yang. She would love that incorrigible goofball with all her heart.

… _Now and forever_.

She moved close to Yang as Yang did the same to her, the Faunus resting in the warmth of her beautiful, wonderful, space-heater monster as the blonde continued to tease and prod her own monster with jokes about pats and comments about cures. They walked along this daytime sidewalk, having no address in mind but wanting to travel together until they found a mattress store. And then they would call Ruby. And then, later, if Blake and Yang were good enough…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …THEY WOULD BANG. Sorry for the spoilers.
> 
> Anyway, semi-serious author's note time: The purpose of writing this fic was to try and write Bumblebee smut in a way that showed love. Sure, I wanted to make it funny and hot occasionally, but, ultimately, my goal was to show love. And if you're reading this note, I'd like to ask if Home accomplished its goal. Did it show love? Or was it all just lust? Or did it flat out fail in its attempt to portray love? Please help me out with this—I'd appreciate your response greatly.
> 
> Besides that, THE TRAIN HAS REACHED THE STATION. YOU MAY NOW DISEMBARK AND SHOWER THE FILTH OFF OF YOU. IN FACT, I INSIST THAT YOU DO SO, YOU PERVERTS, BECAUSE YOUR ENTITLED BEHINDS AREN'T THE ONLY ONES THAT USE THIS TRAIN. SERIOUSLY, FANFICTION PASSENGERS STAY ON FOR WAY TOO LONG. SMH.
> 
> I DOUBT I'M GONNA WRITE SMUT AGAIN, SO, MAYBE LOOK FORWARD TO MY WRITING? IDK. I'LL DEFINITELY WRITE SOMETHING. BUT THANKS FOR READING, YOU PRECIOUS LITTLE ANGELS. SEE YOU IN THE FUTURE!
> 
> ROLL TIDE ROLL.


End file.
